


Beds Are Burning

by MonJoh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Death Eater perspectives, Death Eaters, Gen, Slytherin Pride, Slytherins Being Slytherins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22155094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonJoh/pseuds/MonJoh
Summary: Pre-canon and canon events from the perspective of Millicent Bulstrode. (Slytherin perspectives, Death Eater perspectives, not dark.)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 13





	1. Childhood

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my betas: [bannedfrompencils](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bannedfrompencils/pseuds/bannedfrompencils), [onnadhiel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/onnadhiel/pseuds/onnadhiel), and K.x.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three to ten years old.

Something woke the little girl, though for once it was not the hiccoughing cries of her new baby brother. Only a sliver of moonlight lit Millicent's room, edging between the heavy velvet drapes covering her balcony doors. An owl hooted, either outside or in the owlery two floors of above. She clutched her pink silk comforter more tightly, blinking in the dark, her heart pounding. Blackie's fur was pressed against her cheek, but the cat's ears were folded against his head and his back was stiff. She wished Mummy would open the door and check on her.

A crash sounded downstairs. Blackie hissed and leapt from her bed. Strange, angry voices vibrated through the floorboards. With Blackie gone, Millicent felt around for her stuffed kitty, pulling it against her nightdress as she sat up in bed. Her bedroom felt suddenly big and lonely. She kicked the sheets away and climbed down with Kitty clutched in both arms, then sat on the pink rug to tug her slippers on. Mummy said to always wear her slippers when she got up or her feet would turn to ice. She did not want her feet to turn to ice. What if she went out to play and when she came in her feet melted away? She stood and hugged Kitty again as she crept to her bedroom door. She had to drop the toy and use both hands, but finally the brass knob twisted and the door swung inward. Suddenly, it was bright and noisy.

A voice from downstairs growled, " _Reducto_!"

There was another bang and more shouting. She tiptoed along the thick hall carpet to crouch at the top of the stairs.

"You can't do this. I'll speak with the Minister."

Daddy did not usually raise his voice. Sometimes Mummy yelled, but Daddy always talked nicely, even when Millicent knew she had been bad.

"You can try but she won't have time for your lot." It was one of the strange, angry voices. "The days of Death Eaters running the Ministry are done."

"We're not Death Eaters."

Millicent squished Kitty to her chest as she inched forward. She was not allowed to go downstairs after she had been put to bed, but sitting on the top step was not going downstairs. In the entryway below, Daddy stood with his arms around Mummy.

A big grizzly man with a wooden face paced in front of them, growling. "Maybe you don't have the Mark but we know you practice Dark Arts. Filth like you ought to be left to the Dementors. Save us the trouble of watching you."

Mummy's face turned red and she opened her mouth, but Daddy hugged her tighter and she closed her mouth again.

"I hear you've gotten quite talented at Unforgivables yourself," Daddy said.

"I only use 'em on Death Eater filth like your friends." The growling man stopped pacing and stared at Daddy. "Not against helpless muggles."

"But you don't hesitate to torture 17-year-old children." Mummy lifted her chin and stared back.

"That so-called child is of age and had the Dark Mark on her arm; she made her choice. She should be grateful she didn't end up dead like that evil bastard that sired you both."

"Grateful to be locked in a stone fortress patrolled by soulless demons?" Mummy said.

It was her Serious Trouble voice and Millicent was surprised the growling man, even as big and hairy as he was, did not say sorry. Maybe, if he locked people up with demons, nothing scared him.

Instead of saying sorry, he stepped even closer, nose to nose with Mummy, and bent down. "Perhaps you'd like to join your sister in Azkaban?"

Daddy pushed her behind him. "You have no reason to lock us up."

The growling man narrowed his tiny, dark eyes on Daddy. "Not yet." His eyes snapped up and fastened on Millicent.

She gasped and slid backwards on her bum until her back hit the wall as far away from the stairs as she could get. Mummy looked up, saw her, and gasped. She broke away from Daddy and ran up the stairs to sweep her into her arms. Millicent buried her face in Mummy's shoulder. Mummy smelled like lilacs.

The crashing and banging stopped but now more angry voices were downstairs with the growling man.

"What did you find?" he snapped.

"Nothing."

"Are you sure? This place must be full of Dark objects."

"Then they've got 'em well hidden."

"We don't have anything illegal," Daddy said.

"Watch what you say or I'll lock you up for lying to an Auror."

"It's not a crime to protest illegal search--"

"And I'll lock up your wife and that Death Eater-in-training up there."

Mummy squeezed her so tightly Millicent could barely breathe. Daddy did not say anything else.

"We'll be back and next time we'll find what we're looking for. I can smell a Dark Wizard and this place reeks," the wooden-faced man growled. "Come on, we're done here for now."

The front door slammed and then Daddy ran up the stairs to put his arms around Mummy and Millicent.

Mipsy appeared with a sharp crack, pulling at her long ears with spindly hands. "It will be taking us days to fix the mess those bad men made and Mistress's prize Venomous Tentacula has been stomped to death."

"Bastards," Mummy said.

It was a bad word. The angry voices must be bad people.

"They didn't hurt Blackie, did they?" Millicent asked, raising her head from Mummy's shoulder.

"Oh, no, mistress." The elf shook her head vigorously.

"Perhaps we should be thankful only a plant suffered lasting damage at their hands tonight." Daddy put a hand on Millicent's head and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Did they scare you, Pumpkin?"

She nodded.

"I won't let them hurt you." He put his arms around Mummy and Millicent again, hugging them both. "I won't let them hurt any of us."

#

Millicent knelt on the hot sand to scoop a handful into her pink bucket. A purple hippogriff painted on the side winked at her. At school they probably learned a spell for sand-castle building, but Millicent was too young for a wand, so she worked by hand.

"Can I help?" Another little girl crouched down beside her. "I have a shovel." She brandished a tiny blue shovel made of a bendy material.

"Sure." Millicent scooped up another handful of sand for the bucket. She patted it down and then turned the bucket over but the tower of sand collapsed.

"It's better if you use wet sand." The other little girl dug through the top layer to the clumpy, wet, dark sand and used her shovel to scoop some into the bucket. She wore a thin suit made of stretchy material that left her arms and legs bare. It looked cooler and easier to play in than Millicent's pantaloons and striped dress.

When the bucket was full, she patted it down and then flipped the bucket upside down. A perfect sand tower stood tall.

The girl made a second sand tower not far from the first. "You can get the shells and sticks for the top."

When Millicent had collected a small pile of broken shell pieces and bits of driftwood, she dumped the treasures next to the four sand sentinels that now made up the four corner towers of a castle. She dropped to her knees and helped scrape wet sand to press into walls linking the towers.

"Where's your family?" the girl asked as she built up a sand wall between her palms.

"Mummy Apparated back to the manor. My little brother has to have his nap."

The little girl crinkled her face at the word "Apparated," then shrugged. "If she's gone for a long time, you can stay with us if you want; then we can play some more."

Millicent wondered why the girl thought Apparition took a long time. Maybe her parents preferred brooms. "Mummy will be back in a minute. She said I could stay by myself as long as I don't go in the water."

"I'm not allowed to go swimming by myself, either."

Both girls looked at the line of white foam that separated the sand from the ocean waves.

"But I can play on the beach as long as I stay in sight." She pointed at a cottage perched at the edge of a rocky outcropping further up the beach.

"Why don't they just use a sneak-o-scope to make sure you're okay?" Millicent eyed the glass top that had gotten her into trouble with Mummy more often than she liked.

The girl looked curiously at the coloured top. "Can we play with that next?"

"It's not a toy." Millicent tipped her head to study the sand castle. "The towers should be taller, with crooked turrets on the sides, and a bridge."

"That would be funny but it's too hard to make towers on top of each other. The bottom ones always get squished."

"My daddy could do it." Millicent sighed. Her daddy could make amazing sand castles with a swish of his wand, with a bridge, and twinkling lights in the tower windows, and little figures that moved. "At least we should have a tower right in the middle." She took the blue scoop and began filling her bucket.

The other girl paused and stared at the bucket. "Did that dragon picture wink?"

"It's a hippogriff and yes, it does that."

"Wow."

They decorated the towers and walls with broken bits of seashell and stuck a long, thin bit of driftwood like a flag in the centre tower. When they were done, they stood back to admire their creation.

There was a pop a little way up the beach. "Millicent."

She looked up to see Mummy in her purple-striped beach dress and green-lined cape. Mummy had a look on her face that made Millicent check the sneak-o-scope but there was no flashing light or whistle to indicate danger.

"Pumpkin, come here." Mummy held out her hand.

The other girl stood up and goggled. "Is that your mother? Why does she dress like that?"

Millicent looked at her mother and back at the girl. "Because that's her beach suit."

"Millicent, come here right now." Mummy was using her Serious Voice. Without taking her gaze from the girl, she bent and collected the sneak-o-scope and basket she had left on the beach before. "Bring your bucket."

"I didn't go in the water, I promise." She had followed the rules, so why was Mummy frowning?

"That's fine, Pumpkin. Now, hurry." Mummy held out her hand, keeping an eye on the little girl.

"I have to go," Millicent said to her friend.

"Can you play tomorrow?"

"I don't know. I'll ask." She grabbed her pink bucket and ran to Mummy who took her hand and squeezed it too tightly. "Ow."

"I'm sorry, pumpkin." She backed away, pulling Millicent with her.

"Can I come back here tomorrow?"

"I don't think so."

Millicent dragged her feet. The little girl was a lot more fun to play with than her baby brother. "Please, Mummy?"

"No."

Millicent knew better than to ask again. As Mummy kept tugging her across the beach, she turned and waved. "Sorry I can't play anymore."

The other little girl looked sad. She waved and then dug a toe into the sand, head down. Mummy spun on the spot and Apparated them away.

They landed in the foyer of the manor.

Mummy dropped to her knees and began poking and prodding at Millicent, spinning her one way and another. "Are you okay, Pumpkin?"

"Yes." She wriggled out of Mummy's grip. "I told you I didn't go near the water."

"I know you didn't, sweetheart." Mummy squeezed her in a hug and then whipped out her wand and began muttering spells.

Millicent squirmed under a particularly scratchy _scourgify_ that made her skin tingle.

"Is everything all right?" Daddy walked in as Mummy finished her cleaning spells.

"I found her at the beach playing with one of Them." Mummy made a funny face at Daddy.

His forehead crinkled. "One of who?"

Mummy mouthed something that looked like _muggle_.

Daddy got a funny look as if he had bitten a lemon. "Is she okay?"

"She seems fine," Mummy told Daddy before she turned to her daughter. "Run upstairs and Mipsy will draw you a bath." Mummy pushed Millicent towards the stairs.

She walked a few steps and then turned back to her parents who were whispering to each other. "I had fun today. I made a friend."

Mummy looked like she had stepped on a Venomous Tentacula and was waiting for it to bite her. Her parents exchanged a glance.

"I'm sure you'll make other friends, Pumpkin," Daddy said.

Two hours later she was washed and dressed in her night clothes and Daddy was reading her a bedtime story.

"So the witch arrived at the wedding just in time to expose Snow White as an assassin. The prince was so grateful that he made the witch his queen and they lived happily ever after."

As much as she loved the fairy tale, Millicent was still thinking about the little girl on the beach. "Daddy, why are you and Mummy scared of my new friend?"

Daddy sighed and with a flick of his wand sent the book back to the bookshelf in the corner of Millicent's bedroom. He settled back against her headboard and brushed a lock of curly black hair from her forehead. "There are people in this world, Pumpkin, who have no magic."

"Of course not, she's only my age." Everyone knew that your magic showed up in small, unexpected ways until you went to school and learned spells and charms and potions.

"I mean, she'll never have magic, like her parents don't have magic."

Millicent frowned at her father, trying to understand. "Are her parents children?"

Daddy laughed. "No, her parents are grownups. Grownups without magic."

"Didn't they go to school, Daddy?"

"They went to their own special schools, schools for people without magic."

"But what did they learn at school, then?"

Her father blinked. "Well, they, they learn..."

Mummy peeked around the bedroom door. "Time to go to sleep."

"Yes." Daddy kissed her forehead and got up from the bed. "Time to sleep."

"Daddy, why are you scared of people without magic? Can't we help them learn?"

Mummy patted Daddy on the arm and took his place on the bed, her soft fingers combing through Millicent's hair. "There are some things they can't learn, Pumpkin."

The stroke of her mother's nails against her scalp made Millicent sleepy. She slid down further beneath the pink covers. "Why can't they learn?"

"They're too busy doing other things."

"Scary things?" she mumbled, her eyelids fluttering.

"Sometimes." Mummy tucked the covers under Millicent's chin while continuing to stroke her hair. "They spend a lot of time fighting. They used to chase us, so we hid where they couldn't find us and when they forgot we existed they fought each other, building bigger and stronger weapons. They kept building things, so much that they threw more and more away." Mummy's hand slowed but did not stop its gentle caressing. "When I was a child, we walked endless beaches and splashed in the water and watched the birds fishing and picked up crabs and starfish from the sand. There were earthworms in the garden that would be washed out when it rained and bees thick in the flower beds. Now, the water is dirty with strange things floating on the surf and no worms and so few bees that we have to use special charms to nourish the flowers."

Millicent wanted to ask why the people without magic were hurting the water and the worms and the bees, but her eyelids grew too heavy and the sound of her mother's voice dropped to a murmur until it faded away in sleep.

#

Millicent sat cross-legged on the prickly grass next to the fish pond on the back lawn, plucking handfuls of grass and tossing them in the air to be scattered by the breeze. She had not been back to the beach since last week. Daddy had conjured a sandbox in the play garden and reduced a shovel to child-sized and Millicent had tried to get her little brother to help fill the bucket, but Myles just flapped his chubby arms, tossing sand everywhere, and stuffed what was left into his mouth.

She brushed the grass blades from her hands. Mummy had told her specifically not to get dirty today, and promised that if Millicent kept her play dress clean there would be a surprise. She examined a corner of her pink striped skirt. It was dusted with black cat hairs but no grass stains. She picked off as much of the fur as she could.

"Millicent."

She looked up. Behind Mummy were six children about Millicent's age. A boy with white hair looked around the back gardens with a pinched expression. Behind him, two boys as big as Millicent likewise stared, though with envy instead of disdain. Two girls in matching green dresses whispered together. A dark-haired girl with brown eyes stared at Millicent, hands on her hips.

Mummy beckoned her closer, smiling broadly. "This is Draco, Vincent, Greg, Pansy, Hestia, and Flora."

"No, I'm Hestia," said one of the girls in green.

"I'm Flora," said the other.

"I'm so sorry, girls," Mummy said. Then she smiled again. "Children, this is Millie."

The children exchanged half-hearted greetings.

"Perhaps you'd all like to go play? The wild ponies aren't hitched to the merry-go-round yet, but there's a bouncy pool in the back and a flying swing."

The two big boys' eyes grew round but the pale boy and green girls merely looked bored. The dark-haired girl was still watching Millicent.

"If you play in the garden, watch out for devil's snare and knot grass. You can splash in the pool if you like, but don't disturb the kelpie."

They nodded.

"I'll leave you to it, shall I?"

Once Mummy left, Millicent faced the others, hands behind her back. No one said anything.

"Why are you so big?" the dark-haired girl asked.

Millicent shrugged. "Why is your nose turned up like that?"

Pansy wrinkled her nose and then a slow smile turned up her thin lips. She took Millicent's arm and turned her around. "Show us the bouncy pool and the flying swing."

"I don't want to play on a bouncy swing," the pale boy whined. "Don't you have brooms for flying? I have a Nimbus 1500."

"Hush, Draco," Pansy said. "No one cares about your stupid broom."

The big boys, Vincent and Greg, looked from Pansy to Draco as if waiting for instruction, but Pansy ignored them and dragged Millicent arm-in-arm in the direction of the play garden.

As she let the smaller girl with the funny nose pull her along, she glanced over her shoulder. Draco's pointy face looked even more pinched than it had before, but he tagged along flanked by the two bigger boys who whispered to each other excitedly. The two green girls, Hestia and Flora, or Flora and Hestia, looked at each other, shrugged, and followed after.

#

Millicent sat on a spindly chair of dark wood with a green velvet cushion and swung her legs. She could almost touch the floor if she stretched her pointed black boots. The room was full of people wearing black. A decrepit house elf with a stream of tears raining from its bloodshot eyes delivered finger sandwiches and dainties to them. Several people were gathered by the large windows overlooking the street in front of the house. One young woman stood in the hallway beyond the sitting room doorway, rushing to pull closed a set of green velvet curtains each time they fluttered open and a horrible screeching was heard. Mummy and Daddy were talking with Pansy's parents beside a large fireplace flanked by two ornate glass-fronted cabinets. Myles was too little to come and had been left at home with Mipsy.

Millicent spotted Pansy and Draco in front of an enormous tapestry, giggling at painted pictures of people wearing funny hats. She hopped off the chair and weaved through the crowd to join them.

"That one looks like she has a rooster perched on her head," Pansy said, pointing to one of the faces drawn on the wall.

"That one has snakes instead of hair." Draco pointed to a man wearing a circlet of gold leaf like a Roman emperor.

"He does not," Pansy said. "That's a thorn bush behind him."

"He does so. See, they have eyes and fangs."

Millicent leaned closer to look at a picture of a pointy-faced boy in the bottom corner. "Draco, that looks like you."

Pansy giggled and crouched down beside her. "It is you. Why are you wearing an elf hat?"

Draco sniffed. "I'm tired of this. Let's see if we can sneak some sweets."

Sweets sounded good to Millicent. All she had had to eat since breakfast were three of the little sandwiches the crazy old elf was handing out and the last one tasted like it had been dusted with wartcap powder. She had carefully checked her hands to see if the skin turned crusty like the leather-faced elf.

The three children slipped out of the crowded room into the hallway, giving a wide berth to the green velvet curtains. When they snapped open, just before the young woman pulled them closed again, Millicent glimpsed a portrait of an old woman with a black cap who wore a nasty scowl despite the flood of tears coursing down her wrinkled cheeks. Her muffled screeching followed them down the hallway to the stone steps leading to a kitchen.

Downstairs, a wooden table ran the length of the room. Rows of silver trays lined the top. Draco found one full of tiny, iced cakes. He snagged the tray and the three children ducked underneath the table with their prize.

"Are we going to save any for Vince and Greg?" Millicent asked after they each took their second cupcake.

"No," Draco said with his mouth full and Pansy punched him in the arm. "Ow."

"Don't chew with your mouth open, it looks foul." Pansy wiped her mouth with a corner of her black skirt before she answered Millicent. "If Vince and Greg knew there was cake there wouldn't be any left."

Millicent giggled. Vince and Greg certainly could eat. They liked sweets as much as Draco but had way bigger appetites.

"Shh." Pansy laid a hand on each of the other children's arms and cocked her head.

Draco licked icing off his fingers and then froze, eyes going to the stone steps that led up from the kitchen to the main floor. Millicent felt her stomach do flip flops as she heard boots come down the stairs and into the kitchen. All three of them stared at each other, not daring to move.

"What have you heard?" It sounded like Pansy's father.

From the panic in the other girl's wide brown eyes, she must have recognized his voice, too.

A cane thumped solidly on the kitchen floor beside a pair of shiny black boots. "The Wizengamot has been given another list of objects Scrimgeour and his cronies have labelled as Dark Objects."

Draco's breath shortened at the sound of his father's voice.

"Should we find a more secure place for our family treasures?"

Lucius Malory snorted. "Only if you're hiding a batch of love charms."

"Love charms? Are you serious?"

"They intend to outlaw any and all love charms and potions along with a list of ingredients they have decided are used in Dark Magic."

"And in a dozen harmless or helpful concoctions as well, no doubt," Pansy's father said. "These lists are ludicrous, they're merely an excuse to search the homes of law-abiding wizards and witches. Why love charms now?"

"I can only assume it has to do with the regrettable circumstances under which You-Know-Who was conceived."

Millicent frowned in puzzlement.

"Meantime there are several dozen questionable items in this house which are far more dangerous than anything on their list of so-called Dark Objects."

"Yes. I've been especially careful to avoid touching anything I haven't subtly _scourgified_. Have you seen that decrepit elf? Looks as bat-shit crazy as the old woman was."

"Not surprising, considering the two of them have been holed up in this mausoleum for a decade."

There seemed to be a moment of shared revulsion for the nasty old house with its dark wood and thick velvet curtains and rotten smells and the row of elf heads in the hall. Millicent wrinkled her nose at the floor she was sitting on and suppressed a shudder, hoping the two men would go soon so she could get to her feet. Suddenly, she wanted to wipe her shoes and shake out her skirt.

"I heard the Aurors arrested Mrs. Rosier. Tossed her into Azkaban to await trial. She's over one hundred years old; she won't survive that place long enough to have her day before the court."

Lucius snorted disdainfully. "A trial? Like the kangaroo court young Crouch got?"

"More like the one Black didn't get, though not much would have been accomplished dragging him before the Wizengamot, Sirius was as nutty as most of that family."

"You are speaking of my wife's kin."

The cold in Draco's father's voice made Millicent shiver, but Draco's eyes were burning with outrage. Pansy grabbed hold of the sleeve of his black dress robes before he could give away their presence in the kitchen and get them caught stealing food.

"You got the best of a bad lot. Although Bellatrix was quite the looker; smart, too. Beat me in marks every year while keeping the entire class in stitches for the pranks she pulled. Bloody shame that woman is locked away for life."

"If ever she sees the sun again, she won't be the woman you remember. Cissy has tried several times to visit her sister but they cancel her pass at the last minute every time. The only visitors Bella will see before she dies in that prison are Dementors."

There was a moment of silence.

"Remember that boy one year below us who followed us around Hogwarts like a puppy, always pretending he was a friend of yours, Lucius?"

"Skinny, more freckles than a Weasley? Why, what happened to him?"

"Both his parents were killed in the war, so he inherited the family manor and everything in it. Place was raided last week and they uncovered a few trinkets You-Know-Who had entrusted to his parents, so they labelled him a Dark Wizard and took him in for questioning."

"Questioning? In an entirely legal and humane manner, I'm certain."

"Naturally. The boy is now in the Janus Thickey Ward."

The children exchanged worried glances.

 _What's the Janie Thickie Wart?_ Pansy mouthed.

Draco shrugged, his pointy face wrinkled in confusion.

"You'd think Bagnold would put an end to all this: midnight raids, lists of banned objects found in every cupboard, Aurors throwing Unforgivables left and right. It's been years now and You-Know-Who is well and truly gone," his father said.

"Then why don't you dare speak his name?"

Lucius Malfoy sniffed. The cane handle rapped against the flagstone floor. "Why did you call me down here?"

"A request. If Scrimgeour or Mad Moody or any of that lot decides one of us is an evil dark wizard, I want to protect my family," Pansy's father said. "My little girl is barely five years old. Promise me you'll look after her if I can't."

Pansy shook, her face stark against her black hair. Millicent put a hand on her arm and Draco squeezed her other hand.

"It won't come to that. They've already found you innocent of any actions during the Dark Lord's time due to being under the Imperius Curse."

There was a shared chuckle, but Pansy still looked scared.

"Let them collect their love charms and harmless potion ingredients, while we wait for the Ministry to come to its senses and stop harassing its citizens. Their _real_ citizens; the witches and wizards who have lived and worked and died for our world for generations, not these muggle-borns who waltz in here and assume that seven years at school is sufficient knowledge of an ancient culture to tell us how to run things." Millicent pictured Lucius's sneer, the one Draco imitated so well.

"Does it seem like there are more of them every year that goes by?"

"Yes. I don't know if they're multiplying or if that old fool Dumbledore is specifically seeking them out, muggle-loving fanatic that he is."

Pansy's father sighed. "He does have a soft spot for them."

Lucius barked a laugh. "More likely he's hoping we all forget his involvement with Grindelwald by pretending to be tolerant and open-minded now."

A tray above the children's heads rattled.

"I wouldn't touch that if I was you. Come on, let's see if the firewhiskey in that decanter upstairs is safe to drink."

Millicent let out a breath as the bootsteps and tapping cane retreated up the stairs.

The children exchanged a glance. Millicent squeezed Pansy's arm before she let go. She and Draco were still holding hands, the tray of cupcakes on the floor between them. Millicent pushed the tray aside and crawled out from under the table to stand, brushing dust and doxy droppings from her black skirt. Draco and Pansy followed suit.

Millicent put her arms around the smaller girl. "I won't let anything happen to you, Pansy. I won't let them take you to the Janie Thickie place."

"I won't, either." Draco hugged both girls. "We'll make sure no one touches you."

They stood for a moment leaning on each other, then the three of them traipsed up the stone steps, cupcakes forgotten on the floor.

#

"Marcus looks awfully uncomfortable up there." Millicent watched as the older boy ran a finger underneath the stiff collar of his formal robes.

Beside him at the head table, the other groomsmen were refilling their champagne flutes from a bottle of Ogden's one had tucked in his robe. Oblivious to the shenanigans of his wedding party, Anthony Flint was absorbed in transfiguring each piece of silverware into a flower and presenting them to his bride while the bridesmaids sighed and giggled among themselves.

"When I learn transfiguration next year I'm not wasting magic conjuring flowers." Draco rolled his eyes.

"I think it's sweet." Pansy rested her chin on her hands and watched the bride accept each coloured bloom with a bat of her eyelashes.

Millicent sighed and wished she could conjure flowers out of silverware. She could barely wait for her turn to go to Hogwarts next autumn. Blackie was going to love living in a castle and chasing mice through the dungeons.

Draco picked up his knife and swished it through the air with a practiced flick. "I'm going to conjure snakes and brew Exploding Potion and transfigure beetle buttons. We'll have such fun!"

At the next table, Graham Montague turned sideways in his chair. "Not if McGonagall has anything to say about it. The old battleaxe teaches transfiguration and she's nasty if you look like you're having fun."

Beside him, Hestia and Flora nodded. The matching green bows in their dark hair waved in unison as their heads bobbed.

Millicent exchanged a nervous glance with Pansy and Draco. She had never thought of the teachers as being mean or demanding; she had pictured smiling witches and wizards and happy children learning magic.

"Wait until second year." Hawthorne Parkinson leaned closer to the table of younger children. "McGonagall actually gets harder on the upper year students. Basil says she's a terror in your O.W.L. year."

Pansy's oldest brother nodded before he turned back to watch the wedding party dance beneath floating candles.

"She's got a soft spot for muggle-borns, though." Cassius Warrington shared a look with Hawthorne.

"Yes. We've got one in our year," Hawthorne confirmed. "And McGonagall is always giving him special treatment."

Graham nodded. "She even smiled at him once."

Hestia and Flora leaned their heads together and giggled.

Millicent leaned closer to Pansy. "What's a muggle-born?"

The dark-haired girl huffed. "Someone with muggle parents."

Confused, Millicent tipped her chin. "Why would someone with muggle parents be at Hogwarts? You have to have magic to go."

"They mean mudbloods, Millie," Draco drawled.

"Draco, language," Pansy scolded.

Millicent was still confused. "What are those?"

"You really don't know?" Pansy asked, her brown eyes curious. "You've never heard of someone with magic whose parents are both muggles?"

Millicent felt her jaw drop. "How can muggles have a child who's a witch or wizard?"

"Well, they're not real witches and wizards," Pansy explained. "But they do have magic."

"Drumstrang wouldn't let them in but Hogwarts allows them to attend with the rest of us." Draco frowned. "My father keeps explaining it's dangerous to mix them in but the Board of Governors is scared to oppose Dumbledore. Father thinks it would be safer for me to go to Durmstrang."

"I hope you don't." Millicent tried to imagine going to Hogwarts without one of her best friends.

"Yes, you should stick with us, Draco." Pansy laid a hand on his arm.

He tried to appear unconcerned but Millicent could tell he was pleased they wanted his company. "Well, Mother wants me to stay here and go to Hogwarts but we'll have to be careful because of who they let in."

"Will they start fights and throw rubbish everywhere?" Millicent shuddered at Hogwarts looking like the polluted beach they had visited this summer. It had been littered with dead birds and containers made of strange materials her mother had difficulty vanishing.

"They're dirty and they smell bad." Hestia screwed up her face and her sister matched the expression exactly.

"They're angry a lot, too," Hawthorne said. "They don't know the simplest things and then they snap at you when you try to instruct them."

Cassius nodded. "That Ravenclaw almost bit my head off for explaining how to use a quill. I don't think they have writing."

"They have writing." Basil turned to enter the conversation again. "I overheard a couple of sixth-years talking about that Hufflepuff in their year, who showed them a self-inking writing stick made of something noxious."

It sounded like the same material that washed up on the beach.

"Apparently the self-inking only lasts a little while, then they throw it away and get another one."

When Basil leaned back in his chair, the others did likewise, exchanging awed looks at the strange practices of primitives with no magic.

"I still don't understand how parents with no magic can have a child with magic." Millicent looked at the older boys for an explanation.

Hawthorne shrugged. "Maybe they stole it somehow."

"You can't steal magic." Cassius rolled his eyes.

"It's not much different from squibs, if you think about it," Flora said.

Pansy and Draco exchanged nods.

Millicent tipped her head, considering. It made sense that if witches and wizards sometimes had children with no magic, then non-magical parents could have children that did. "If only you could tell right away if a newborn baby had magic or not," she said thoughtfully. "Then we could send the squibs to live with muggles and they'd never know what they were missing and the magical babies could be raised with witches and wizards and maybe they'd have a chance to learn how to do things right."

"Their brains would still be smaller than real witches and wizards," Pansy noted.

"But at least they'd have parents to teach them proper ways and manners," Millicent said.

Draco smirked. "We could toss the babies out a window and see if they bounce."

Millicent gasped and stared at him. "You can't toss little children out of windows, not even muggles." Sometimes he was mean.

"It worked for Longbottom." Draco pointed at a short, pudgy boy with a smear of chocolate on his left cheek and unfortunate buck teeth who huddled in a chair beside a stern-looking, grey-haired woman. "I heard his uncle tossed him out a window a couple years ago and he bounced. Everyone had given him up for a squib before that happened."

"It was his great-uncle and he claims it was an accident," Pansy sniffed.

"That's horrible!" Millicent watched the round-faced boy take another sweet from a bowl on the table and then drop it when the grey-haired woman frowned at him.

"Maybe he really is a squib and he only bounced because he's fat!" Draco said.

He smirked when Pansy laughed with him but Millicent straightened her shoulders and tried to suck in her stomach. Not that she was fat, just big.

Pansy punched her in the shoulder. "We're just kidding, Millie."

Pansy winked and Millicent smiled back, letting her breath out again.

She thought about some child out there the same age as her with the same signs of wild, uncontrolled magic but no Mummy or Daddy to explain what was happening. "Do you think there'll be a muggle-born in our year?"

"I hope not." Pansy shuddered. "Can you imagine sharing classes every day with one of them? The smell would make me ill."

"And touching things in the classrooms." Draco's nose wrinkled. He looked a lot like his mother when he made that expression.

"At least Greg wouldn't be last in marks, though," Pansy said and they all giggled.

As much as Millicent liked Greg, his slow-wittedness irked her.

"You all don't have to worry about marks, because I'm going to be top of every class." Draco patted his slicked-back platinum hair.

Pansy shoved him sideways in the chair and Millicent shook her head, smiling. As arrogant as her friend was, he was smart. He probably would be top of their class.


	2. Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First year to shortly before fourth year (11 to 14 years old).

"I saw him on the platform!" Pansy squealed. Her hands were clasped in Millicent's as they sat across from each other in the train compartment, their heads bent toward each other, trying to contain their mutual excitement. "He has messy dark hair and glasses and the greenest eyes you have ever seen." She wore the dreamy expression she normally reserved for Draco.

"Oh, I think that's the boy who was being helped by those big red-headed kids." Millicent tried to recall each detail of the small boy with a white owl and a trunk too heavy for him. His dark fringe had hidden his forehead. "Draco says he met him in Madame Malkin's. Do you think it's true or is he just bragging?"

"Draco's bragging, all right, but he did talk to a boy he didn't recognize while being fitted for his school robes. Said the boy had glasses and he was with Hagrid because his parents were dead."

"Hagrid?" Millicent tried to recall anyone by that name.

"The wild man that lives in a hut out back of the school, looks like a troll but not as clever." Pansy tossed her hair back over her shoulder. "You'd think someone as famous as Harry Potter would have a better class of servant but they say he's been in hiding with muggles for all these years so I guess you take what you can get."

"Do you think he'll be sorted into the same house we are?"

"Ooh, that would be so exciting." Pansy's brown eyes shone. "We could teach him all the things those muggles never told him."

"We could help him with his homework." Millicent imagined sitting next to the dark-haired boy at a library table, his hair hanging down so his scar was visible, as they studied together.

The compartment door slid open and Draco came in, followed by Vince and Greg. Greg was sucking on his knuckle.

"Did you find him? Did you talk to him?" Pansy peered around the bulk of the two boys behind Draco.

"Yeah." Draco sat in the seat beside Pansy and looked out the window, though it was near dark and the mountains and forest blended together under the purple sky.

Millicent got to her feet, able to see over Vince's head into the corridor beyond. There were children milling around but no green eyes and glasses.

Pan squealed again. "What did he say? Did you see his scar? Is he joining us?"

"No." The blond boy slouched in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

Pansy faced Greg and Vince. "Did you meet Harry Potter?"

"We saw him, yeah." When Vince shrugged, his neck disappeared into his wide shoulders. "He was with one of the Weasleys."

The tall boys helping Harry Potter had probably been the Weasley twins. Millicent frowned. The Weasleys disliked anyone in Slytherin and those they called Dark Wizards. If Harry Potter was sitting with one of them, he probably already made up his mind she and her friends were unpleasant and wicked. Maybe he would not want to study with her.

Pansy put her hands on her hips and stamped her foot. "Draco Malfoy, you tell me what happened."

"He told me I was the wrong sort of people." Draco's grey eyes glittered as his head whipped around from the window to meet Pansy's eyes. "He refused to take my hand. Then his Weasel friend set his rat to attack us."

Greg showed them his knuckle. A trickle of blood oozed from tiny teeth bites.

Draco slouched further and turned back to the window. His pallid face was tinged pink, even the tips of his ears.

Pansy looked from Greg's wounded hand to Draco's hurt face. "Did Harry Potter really refuse to take your hand?"

Without speaking, Draco nodded, arms wrapped tightly around himself.

Pansy sat beside him and put an arm across his shoulders. "Who cares what Harry Potter thinks?"

"Yeah, what makes him so special?" Millicent said. She did not want to do homework with such a rude git after all.

"He's kind of scrawny." Vince looked at Greg, who nodded his head vigorously.

"And he's a pig. You shoulda seen the pile of sweets in that compartment."

"Sounds like Weasley's got himself a sugar daddy already," Pansy sneered.

A tiny smile twitched the corner of Draco's mouth.

"Neither of those two will fit into their school robes by the end of term."

The bruised look faded from Draco's eyes and they glittered meanly. "Bet they get sorted into Gryffindor together and share the same dorm room so they can hold hands all night."

"As long as they stay out of our way." Millicent sat with a thump and crossed her arms. "Just because he's famous doesn't mean he can treat people like dirt."

"Yeah." Vince sat beside her, his fists clenched.

Greg curled one ham-sized hand and slammed it into the other palm, heedless of the still-bleeding bite mark. "Let them try to attack us again."

Pansy patted Draco's knee. "We'll show him."

#

Millicent stirred her potion slowly clockwise with both hands, trying not to breathe too much of the noxious, greenish steam curling up from the cauldron. She had attempted to pull her long, black hair into a pony-tail so no stray strand would contaminate today's class project, but several curls had pulled loose and were stuck annoyingly on her cheeks and eyelashes. Her thick, black curls were the only feature she inherited from her pretty mother and while usually she was proud of her hair, during potions work it was an annoyance. Beside her, Pansy painstakingly sliced frog brain into perfect cubes. Millicent envied Pansy's practical bob.

Out of the corner of her eye, Millicent snuck a look at the Gryffindor side of the classroom. Hermione Granger's hair was even larger than usual, puffing out in the steam worse than Millicent's. Granger stirred with precise, unvarying speed, the steam from her cauldron the exact shade of peridot described in the text. When the muggle-born first arrived at Hogwarts, she had been everything Millicent expected from one of her background: obnoxious, pushy, always trying to fit in and seemingly unaware how ridiculous her behaviour was. But she worked hard to overcome her natural deficiencies and had gotten top marks their first year. That had been an eye-opener. Draco, who had been convinced he would be top student, had sulked the entire summer.

The teachers liked her, too. Even Professor Snape never criticized her potions work and battleaxe McGonagall doted on her, though that could be the favouritism she showed all muggle-borns. The headmaster also seemed fond of her, but then he usually favoured students from his own house. That favouritism had been made abundantly clear at their first end-of-year feast. Millicent's heart had shrivelled inside as one hundred and seventy points were handed out on the flimsiest of excuses anyone ever heard, taking the House Cup literally out of their hands and handing it to their rivals while she and her mates stared hopelessly at each other.

She watched Granger make one last, precise stir and then reach for the squares of frog brain, scowling at the sloppy work of her partner. She was smarter than Millicent had expected but every bit as prone to fighting as other muggles. She had been especially nasty to Draco when he made the Slytherin quidditch team, even though she had not made one whit of protest when several schools rules had been broken the year before for her best friend. Draco had been so proud when he was chosen for the team, despite his overconfident bragging beforehand, and Granger's insinuation that it was not his undisputed talent that had gotten him in had been a vicious blow. Millicent had found him crying under the stands when she went to look for him later. She could have slapped Granger right then. It had been poetic justice when she was paired with the muggle-born for duelling and had the chance to put her in a headlock. Served her right, the bushy-haired bully.

"Are we ready to add the final ingredient?" Pansy asked.

Millicent counted her last stir, nodded, and they carefully dropped in the neat cubes just in time as Snape called for them to clean their workstations and submit their samples.

At the next table, their roommates, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis, quickly finished their own potion. Millicent was slightly in awe of small and delicate Daphne with her hair like sunshine, blue eyes like a cloudless summer sky, and melodic voice. Standing next to her, Millicent felt like the half-giant she was teased to be, yet Daphne never hesitated to ask Millicent questions about their studies or for help with homework. Nor did she ridicule Millicent's disdain for hair styling and glamour charms, even though Daphne spent an hour and a half each morning perfecting her looks before anyone was allowed to see her. At first meeting, that night in the Slytherin dorms when Millicent met the girls she would eat, sleep, and do homework with for the next seven years, she had thought Tracey more likely to befriend her. Tracey was dark-haired and tall, though not as broad as Millicent. She was studious and wore sensible shoes and Millicent expected they would bond over shared interests, but instead Tracey had ended up in Daphne's orbit much as Millicent was in the vivacious Pansy's orbit.

The four girls fell in behind Draco and Greg who were nattering together about the Chamber and who the Heir of Slytherin was. As they reached the doorway, Millicent dug into her bag for a container of sweets Draco had shared with her. Behind her, two Gryffindor girls tittered.

"Need a snack on the way to lunch, Bulstrode?" a blonde Gryffindor girl with large blue eyes framed by thick lashes snickered. Her curls were swept back and tied with a red bow that matched the paint on her perfect nails.

A couple of boys with red and gold ties snickered.

Her face burning, Millicent let go of the container of sweets as if it held frog brains.

A brown-skinned girl with wide dark eyes and black hair in a thick plait down her back elbowed the blonde. "Anyone that size must have to graze constantly."

"We better get to the Great Hall before her or there won't be anything left to eat." The blonde flicked a loose golden curl over her shoulder.

One of the boys wearing a red and gold tie made a show of sniffing the air. "Has another troll gotten in here?"

The other boy wrinkled his nose at Millicent. "No, just a half-giant. Ugly as a troll, though."

The two girls tittered, pretending to hide their giggles behind dainty hands.

"Someone should show her a hair-cleaning charm," the dark-haired girl said in a stage whisper to the blonde.

Millicent's hand itched to run through her hair. She had meant to wash it this morning but had slept later than she planned. Had everyone noticed it had become slightly greasy? She could feel the stares on the back of her head.

In the doorway, Daphne and Tracey paused and looked back. Daphne frowned at the snickering crowd behind Millicent. Draco and Greg stopped and Draco looked over his shoulder, his grey eyes narrowing.

Pansy spun and glared at the pair of Gryffindor girls. "You must be relieved it's lunchtime. It's the one subject you're not failing."

The two girls stopped giggling.

Pansy gave them a pitying look. "Don't worry, next year you can take divination; you don't need any brains at all for that class--you'll love it." Before they could think of a retort, Pansy turned her back on them, took Millicent's arm, and flounced out of the room with her followed by the group of laughing Slytherins.

#

A white peacock squawked, its croak followed by a series of hoots that made its stomach expand and contract like a bellows. Not far away, several peafowl took up the cry. Pansy clapped her hands over her ears and growled. Draco ignored them. Millicent giggled, fascinated by the male bird's long tail feathers dragging behind like the train of a wedding dress. She wondered what Blackie would make of this creature if she brought one home.

Theodore's head came up, looking around as if trying to locate the source of the racket, and blinked when the bird repeated its extended honking. "Is that a peacock?"

Draco did not bother to look up, his eyes on the broom Theo held. "Yes."

The two boys were exact opposites in many ways--Theo had dark hair, dark eyes, and rarely spoke--but he was the only one of their group whose wealth approached that of Draco's family. The Parkinsons and Bulstrodes had accumulated generations of wealth, but Millicent knew it was paltry compared to the Malfoys or the Notts. Draco had been more polite to his new roommate than she had seen him be to any of their other housemates and she learnt their fathers were close friends. When she met Theo their first year at school, she had thought him conceited; he was always watching her and Pansy and Draco, but if she met his gaze he would stick his nose in a book. Gradually, as she got to know the weedy boy who always hunched to hide his height, she found he was actually quite clever with a wicked sense of humour. He continued to eat alone at their house table and spent most of his time studying by himself or reading, but when he did join them he made her laugh big belly laughs, even though she hated the sound she made. One of the interests that could coax him out of his shell was his newest toy: an advance shipment of the latest racing broom. Like Draco and her, Theo loved to fly even though he had no more interest in team sports than she did.

Pansy had no particular interest in brooms but none of them considered getting together without her. She had brought along their two dorm mates, probably to ensure the conversation did not revolve exclusively around brooms. She was seated with Daphne and Tracey on an ornate iron bench, the setting sun an orange halo behind them, while Pansy and Daphne debated the merits of using spearmint instead of peppermint in Amortentia.

Theo ran his hand down the entire length of rough wooden handle and then flipped it around so they could examine the tail end. "It can go 150 miles per hour in ten seconds."

Millicent turned from the peacocks to the two boys, who were hunched over the Firebolt in Theo's hands, comparing it to Draco's Nimbus 2001.

"This is where they get the extra speed." Theo ran his finger along the wings that zigzagged out of the tail.

Draco patted the handle of his silver-tipped Nimbus 2001. "This beauty is still the fastest-selling broom on the market and the most agile, too."

"Doesn't do much good if you can't handle the broom." Millicent hefted her Nimbus 2000. "I'm still the better flier and I don't need expensive equipment to out-fly both of you."

Draco grinned. "Race you."

Millicent grinned back and swung a leg over the handle of her broom, enjoying the solid feel of the rough wood in her palms. "Where to?"

"London," Theo said.

She looked at him in surprise. "That's a hundred miles away." The tricky git. He knew speed would be more of an advantage for him the further they travelled.

"It'll take us an hour to get there," Draco complained.

Theo smirked. "It'll take  _ you  _ an hour to get there." He flipped his Firebolt expertly and straddled the handle.

Millicent checked the violet sky. No moon was visible and there was enough cloud cover to make the trip without being spotted by muggles. She had never seen London other than shopping trips to Diagon Alley. She knew wizarding London was surrounded by a muggle city of the same name, and she was curious what their section of town looked like. Would the streets be busy like the thoroughfare in front of Fortescue's, or furtive like Knockturn Alley? Would there be a dozen streets or even more?

"What about the girls?" Theo asked.

"Pansy, see you in a couple hours, okay?" Draco called.

She made a shooing motion with her hand. Daphne looked up and waved.

Millicent kicked off the ground. "Meet you at Fortescue's."

Before the boys could react, warm evening air rushed past her face, tugging her long hair and singing in her ears. It would not take them long to catch up, but meantime she intended to gain as much distance as possible. She leaned forward, bent low over the familiar wooden stick, and barely kept from laughing aloud at the sensation of speed. Up here, she was not big or clumsy or stupid-looking; just a leaf on the wind. She felt the disturbance in the air as Draco and Theo caught up, heard the whoosh as they sped by, their own laughter carried away by their slipstream. She leaned lower over her broom, gasping as the wind stole her breath. She should have worn her leather gloves with extra padding in the palm, but the minor discomfort was barely a distraction from the joy of broom riding.

Despite her best effort, the boys pulled further ahead. She eased her grip and looked down. Roads full of muggle cars and groups of houses with unnatural, yellow light flashed by below interspersed with shadowy areas. As her ears grew cold and her fingers started to tingle, the lights below grew more numerous, glowing around her even as the sky became fully dark. There were lights on poles and lights from buildings, not only houses but buildings as tall as castle towers with straight, square sides. She stared, fascinated. This must be muggle London already, though they had not flown nearly as far as she had expected.

The buildings became taller, some with only a few squares of steady light scattered up their sides, others as bright as Hogwarts, and the noise increased. Impossibly, there were even more cars jammed between the buildings below, like pebbles on a beach. The air was not as fresh anymore, either, and her throat was scratchy. Millicent wondered how many muggles were packed into the town below. She glanced up and frowned. A hazy glow stretched ahead with no end in sight. Millicent thought of slowing to count the people below but she had no idea how many muggles were squeezed into the tallest buildings. She flew on.

And on and on. She wondered if her tracking charm had failed, but the boys were still ahead of her, still flying fast, so Diagon Alley had to be further ahead. Her wrists ached. She thought she had been flying over the city forever and she had yet to reach the familiar wizarding streets. She had stopped wanting to count the number of muggles below.

Just when she was certain all three of them were lost, her tracking charm beeped. She saw the boys angle their brooms downward, aiming for cobblestones with no cars. By the time she brought her broom to a smooth stop barely high enough for her black laced boots to brush the cobbles, Draco and Theo were standing, brooms in hand, staring at each other.

"Did you see how big this city is?" Draco asked. His grey eyes were wide and his voice hoarse.

"How many muggles do you think we passed over?" Theo hugged himself, broom gripped tightly in one fist.

A shiver snaked down her spine and curled uncomfortably in her stomach. "A lot. There were an awful lot of them."

"Thousands." Draco was shivering.

"More like hundreds of thousands." Millicent rubbed her shaking hands, trying to encourage circulation.

Theo looked around. "How many wizards do you think are here?"

"A couple hundred?" Millicent guessed.

"Do you think there are thousands more muggles on the other side of this town?" Theo looked in the opposite direction from which they had come.

She glared at him.

"We're in the middle, right? There must be as many more on the other side as we flew over getting here."

The curl of dread in her stomach clogged her throat. She swallowed down the bile.

"Do you still want to get ice cream?" Draco, who normally enjoyed sweets, was staring at Fortescue's with a nauseous expression.

Theodore shook his head.

Millicent thought about flying over those hundreds of thousands of cars and buildings to get back to the manor. Fear curdled in her stomach. "My hands are cold. Maybe we can use the floo at the Leaky?"

"My hands are cold, too," Draco said quickly.

"We should get back to the girls; they're probably waiting for us," Theo said.

Tucking their brooms under their arms with the handles pointed straight up, the three of them made their way though scattered groups of witches and wizards closing shops, running last-minute errands, or out for a night on the town. Millicent tried not to count how few of them there were.

#

"Time for bed, children." Millicent's mother stood at the door to the sun room, the gardens beyond its charmed glass walls shrouded in twilight lit by the occasional blue flash of a pixie.

Mother looked tired. She had snapped at Myles earlier and told him to stop pestering her about school shopping, which was odd because usually she loved buying supplies for their next year at Hogwarts. This time she had frowned and hauled Myles upstairs to bed along with Theo's little sister.

Pansy stood and stretched, abandoning the pile of Exploding Snap cards on the floor. Millicent reached out a hand to pull Theo to his feet, lifting his slight weight easily with one arm. It was odd to be with Pansy and Theo without Draco, even though she knew his parents had taken him to the Quidditch World Cup. Millicent's parents had been willing to watch all the children while the Parkinsons, the Malfoys, and Thorvald Nott enjoyed the match. Millicent hoped the teams kept at it for several days so Pansy and Theo could stay longer.

In the corridor at the top of the stairs, Pansy and Millicent exchanged good nights with Theo before he went into the guest bedroom he had been given. A second bed had been conjured in Millicent's room for the duration of Pansy's stay. It was similar to Millicent's four-poster, but with a green canopy and spread instead of pink. They put on their nightclothes and washed up in the ensuite bathroom.

"Do you think Draco's having fun?" Pansy asked around a mouthful of bubbles conjured by her teeth-cleaning mouthwash.

"Probably."

His grey eyes had glowed every time he talked about seeing the match, which had been every time they met for the last two months, and he had been bouncing on his feet when he waved goodbye. Pansy and Theo had been oddly subdued as they waved back.

"Do you think your parents and brothers are having fun?"

Basil was mad for the sport, reading magazines and talking non-stop with fellow fans, but Hawthorne had never seemed terribly interested beyond knowing which teams were playing and their relative standing. Pansy's parents had never expressed any particular interest, either, but neither were they ones to miss a major social event.

"Yes." Pansy spit out her mouthful of bubbles and grabbed a towel, her eyes averted.

"I bet Greg and Vince are having the time of their lives, too." While their families had not been able to afford seats in the top box with Draco, they were in the crowd and had been as excited as he was. Their parents had seemed eager, too, giggling together like schoolchildren.

Pansy made no reply as she wiped her hands and then headed towards the bedroom.

Millicent's mother came to tuck them in, closing the thick velvet drapes and extinguishing the candles with a flick of her wand. "Good night, girls."

"Good night," they echoed.

The room was left with only the greenish glow from a charmed globe above Millicent's bed that was always lit at night because she was afraid of loud noises in the dark.

Just as Millicent was about to drift into sleep, Pansy's voice came softly from the other bed.

"Do you think they'll be all right?"

Millicent tried to organize her sluggish thoughts. "Who?"

"Basil and Hawthorne and Greg and Vince and Draco and my mother and father and Theo's father."

Sleep faded away as Millicent's brain registered the worry in Pansy's voice. She tried to see the other girl's face but her bed was only a grey shadow in the dark room. "It's just a game. They're having fun."

"Yeah, fun."

Pansy was quiet again, but Millicent sat up, hugging the warm covers around her shoulders. The other girl's face was a pale smudge beneath her black hair, barely visible in the faint greenish glow.

The face turned away as she rolled over. "Go back to sleep, Millie. I'm sorry I woke you."

Millicent laid back down and pulled the comforter back up to her chin.

Her eyes had begun to close once more when there was a loud crack from downstairs, followed quickly by several more. Both girls bolted upright, staring at each other in the dark.

The bedroom door jerked open and light from the hallway framed a scrawny shape with his hair sticking up in back.

"Theo, what's going on?" Pansy asked. She was shivering in the bed.

Theo was as shaken as she was. She scrambled from the bed and ran to him. Millicent stared in surprise as they hugged, half in the lit hallway, half in her darkened bedroom.

From below, someone shouted. Theo and Pansy sprang apart, stared at each other, then darted for the stairwell. Millicent threw off her covers and followed, shivering a bit in her linen sleeping shirt. She huddled with the other children, peering through the wrought iron balustrade at the wide entry hall below. Mother and Father, wearing dressing gowns over their nightclothes, stood at the bottom of the stairs facing five figures in long black robes with hoods that covered them from head to toe. Theo's father pulled the cowl from his grey hair and Millicent saw a silver mask in his hand. Pansy's parents tossed back their hoods and Millicent saw the faces of the two figures behind them were hidden by similar silver masks.

Mother crossed her arms over her purple silk dressing gown. "I warned you."

Mrs. Parkinson ran a shaking hand through her brunette curls. "It all went according to plan at first. We had a little fun with the muggle family that ran the campground; nothing serious, no one got hurt. The victory celebration was everything we could have wanted."

Her husband nodded earnestly. "It was thrilling; there were a hundred thousand of us in the stands, witches and wizards from every civilized country, plus players and officials and tradespeople selling anything magic can make. For once, we outnumbered the muggles."

Millicent's mother shook her head. "There are that many muggles in a single town down the road, Valerian."

"So what happened?" Father asked. "Why are you back here wearing those and looking like Aurors are on the rampage again?"

"The Mark." Theo's father's face was so stark, age spots stood out across his cheeks.

"What?" Mother put one hand on her chest and fell back a step.

Beside her, Father froze to unnatural stillness. "What do you mean, the Mark?"

Pansy's parents exchanged a look of fear. "The Dark Mark, in the sky. Someone cast  _ morsmordre _ ."

"Why would you do that?" Mother's voice was hard.

"It wasn't one of us." Pansy's mother lifted a shaking hand to her breast. "It wasn't any of us."

"But who..." Father's voice trailed to nothing.

"They never found a body," Mother said. "Could it...?"

Valerian Parkinson shook his head. He pulled up the sleeve of his black robe and held out his left arm where there was a smudge of grey ink. "No. If it had been him, the Mark would be clearer and blacker."

"Then--"

Before Mother could finish her question, Pansy's mother looked to the top of the stairs and saw her daughter. Immediately, she opened her arms. Pansy flew down the stairs and threw herself into her mother's embrace. Her father crouched beside and hugged them both and Pansy's brothers pulled their masks off and crowded close.

Theo descended the stairs more slowly, but as soon as he reached the bottom his father pulled him into a tight hug. "Where's your sister?"

"Still asleep. I checked on her just before I heard you Apparate in."

Thorvald squeezed him harder and then eased away, one hand on his back as he slowly straightened up. "We'll get her, then we'll go home." Over Theo's head, he met Mrs. Bulstrode's gaze. "Thank you for watching them."

She ducked her head in mute acceptance, then Theo's father took his hand and Millicent stood aside to let them pass her in the hallway. Theo called good night as he showed his father which room Imogene slept in, and there was a crack as they Apparated out.

In the hall below, Pansy looked up at her father. "Is Draco all right?"

"His mother went to collect him before they returned to their manor. He's fine."

Pansy nodded, then turned and waved to Millicent at the top of the stairs. Valerian and Hyacinthe expressed their gratitude to Millicent's parents for taking care of Pansy, then the Parkinson family Apparated away.

After their visitors had gone, Father put one arm around Mother and drew her close to his side.

"They behaved foolishly tonight," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder.

He sighed. "I agree. Harassing muggles only risks exposing us to their irrational fears of magic and bringing down the wrath of the Ministry on our heads."

"If the Ministry goes on another rampage, I don't think I can stay neutral this time."

The thought of growling, angry voices smashing things in the night sent shivers up Millicent's spine.

"It may not come to that." Daddy patted Mummy's shoulder and looked up to meet Millicent's gaze. "Come here, Pumpkin."

She walked slowly down the stairs, her bare feet cold on the thin carpet. As soon as she got to the bottom, Daddy lifted her and squeezed her tightly. "Everything's all right, Pumpkin. Don't worry."

Millicent hung on to Daddy's neck. It was a long, long time since he had picked her up like a child. The dread curdling inside eased.

Mummy stroked Millicent's long black curls away from her face. "I promise we'll keep you safe. Now, it's time to go back to bed. Do you want Daddy to carry you?"

Millicent shook her head and stretched her toes for the cold tiles as Daddy set her down. Mummy and Daddy each took one of her hands and walked her back to her room.


	3. Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of fourth year through fifth year (15 to 16 years old).

Millicent turned a page. Outside, grey mist shielded her view of the back garden and thick droplets left wet trails on the glass. The window seat was her favourite place to sit and read, with the steady swish of falling rain beyond her comfortable nook.

"Millicent, come here, please."

Surprised at Mother's serious tone, Millicent charmed a page maker and set her book on the fluffy pink cushions as she got to her feet.

Her mother led the way down the carpeted steps and into the formal dining room at the front of the house, a room they only used when entertaining guests. Millicent paused in the doorway, taken aback to see her friends and their parents seated around the long mahogany table: Pansy and her entire family, Draco and his parents, Theo and his father, and Vince and Greg each with their parents. In a corner, Millicent's little brother entertained Theo's little sister with a screaming yo-yo. The screeching toy accompanied by giggling and clapping was the only sound in the room. Although Millicent's friends met her gaze as she followed her mother in and joined them at the table, none of them offered their usual warm greetings.

"Myles, would you take Imogene upstairs and play with her there?" Mother asked.

He looked about to argue, but swallowed his protest at her stern look and offered his hand to Theo's sister. "I'll show you my fanged frisbee."

Imogene looked up happily, but her natural reserve returned when she realized the others in the room were watching her. She silently took his hand and followed on his heels out the door.

"You could have let the boy stay," Mrs. Parkinson said.

"He's only twelve." Mother's jaw was tight. "Even fifteen is young for this conversation."

"Nearly sixteen; old enough to be told the truth." Father glanced at his daughter and her schoolmates. "They'll be adults soon; war is coming and Dumbledore has already begun to militarize school children to fight. We agreed they deserve to have a say." He clasped mother's hand when she sat beside him.

He patted the empty chair on his other side. Millicent sat and nervously twisted her fingers together.

Mother took a deep breath and met Hyacinthe Parkinson's eyes. "What happened five weeks ago?"

"He's back!" Draco said, his eyes bright as he nearly bounced in his seat. "The Dark Lord is back."

Millicent's mother looked to Lucius and Narcissa. Narcissa nodded her head.

"It's all going to change now." Draco looked at Millicent and his excitement sent tingles of anticipation through her, even though she was uncertain what the return of You-Know-Who would mean.

Lucius laid a restraining hand on his son's shoulder. "It won't happen overnight, but Draco is right; we'll retake control of the Ministry and reign in the Aurors; no more midnight raids, no more rounding up anyone they label Dark, no more filling Azkaban to bursting without trial."

Millicent's parents exchanged a glance. "Is it a step forward to hand control to someone who styles himself the Dark Lord? Can he really make things better?"

Hyacinthe Parkinson gasped in outrage but Narcissa held up a hand to forestall any indignant response. "He's our only option now. His return has been kept secret but that won't last, and you know what the Ministry will do then."

Mother sighed. "They'll expand the list of Dark Objects until there isn't a wizarding household in Britain that would pass inspection, bring on more Aurors and give them more powers, regulate every article the _Daily Prophet_ prints, and lock up anyone who opposes them. We'll be back to a police state."

Millicent shivered at the memory of angry voices and crashes in the night.

"It's bad enough now," Valerian Parkinson said. "You know as well as I the laws aren't applied the same to all; the so-called Unforgivables are only unforgivable if the wrong person uses them."

Lucius leaned forward. "Harry Potter could cast _crucio_ and _imperius_ with impunity but if you or I were to utter such curses we'd see the inside of Azkaban before we lowered our wands."

"That's for sure," Draco muttered. "Rules don't apply to him."

Vince scowled and Greg slammed his right fist into his left palm. Pansy's eyes glittered with hate.

The thought of all the rules at Hogwarts that had been bent or ignored for the sake of the Chosen One stirred a seething anger in Millicent. Last week on the train ride home, Potter and his cronies had left Draco unconscious and seriously injured in a corridor of the Hogwarts Express. It had taken days of treatment to cure him, Vince, and Greg, and no school authority would listen to their requests for justice given who their attackers had been. If this Dark Lord was going to bring equality and fairness back, she would happily support him.

"You-Know-Who will expose us to the muggle world." Father squeezed Mother's hand beneath the table. "There are millions of them. How will we keep our children safe once our existence is revealed?"

A shiver snaked up Millicent's spine at the thought of so many violent muggles suddenly aware of their existence and turning on them once more. She tried not to think of the tall buildings and streets jammed with cars. Even Draco's enthusiasm was dampened at the reminder of how hopelessly outnumbered they were by the savages.

"We'll strike first and strike hard." Hyacinthe Parkinson's brown eyes glittered as brightly as her daughter's. "No mercy. We won't allow their smoking weapons or filthy air and polluted water to grind us down; we'll show them real power, then give them the choice to surrender or die."

"We will win this time," Mrs. Crabbe said. She smiled at her husband and he smiled back. "The Dark Lord has promised we'll have nothing further to fear from muggles or those of our own kind who want us to cower from them all our lives."

Millicent watched hope kindle in her parents' faces.

"It's been a long time," Father said. "Can You-Know-Who deliver on his promises?"

"Without a doubt," Lucius said.

"The Dark Lord has changed, it's true," Thorvald Nott said. His voice was scratchy and he hunched at the table, a walking stick hooked onto the back of his chair. "His appearance--" a shudder went through Theo's father's thin frame "--is not as pleasing as it was in his youth, but do not doubt his power or his determination. He will not be stopped."

"They said he was dead," Vince said, leaning forward until he sat on the edge of his chair. "But he wasn't."

"They thought Potter defeated him, but it was just a fluke." Draco met Millicent's gaze. "The Dark Lord can't be defeated."

Pansy nodded, her face alight.

Millicent turned to her parents. Everyone around the table: Draco, Pansy, Vince, Greg, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Valerian and Hyacinthe Parkinson, Thorvald Nott, Mr. and Mrs. Crabbe, Gregory Goyle Sr., even quiet Theo--had all pledged their support to the Dark Lord, the one who was going to keep them safe from muggles and bring back fairness and justice to the wizarding world; surely her parents would do the same? Surely they would want a better, safer life for witches and wizards in Britain and everywhere.

Mother turned to Father. "I said I wouldn't--couldn't--be neutral this time. I've seen too much to stand by as the Ministry turns on the people it's supposed to serve, the very people who have supported it for generations."

Father nodded. "I know. Nor can we continue to ignore the seriousness of the threat posed by muggles and the muggle-borns who expose us to them. We have a second chance to stand up for our rights and the rights of our children."

Mother smiled and her hand clenched on her husband's. Then she turned to face Millicent. "Pumpkin, do you understand what we've decided?"

Millicent nodded. "I support the Dark Lord, Mother."

Her mother turned back to the table. "Count us in."

#

Draco sauntered into the long, low underground Slytherin common room, Vince and Greg at his heels. Millicent looked up from her seat beneath a round, sea-green lamp where she was writing an essay. Pansy had been stretched out on a leather sofa in front of the fireplace, but she jumped to her feet at Draco's appearance and rushed to kiss him on the cheek. Daphne and Tracey looked over curiously when Draco beckoned Millicent, Vince, and Greg to join him, too.

"Umbridge wants to see us."

"What does that old toad want?" Pansy wrinkled her nose.

Draco shrugged. "I don't know, but Cassius was sent to fetch Graham, Flora, and Hestia as well."

Millicent capped her inkwell and wiped off her quill before rolling up her unfinished essay. Dolores Umbridge irritated her no end; the woman was both annoying and stupid and that was something she never expected to think about a person who liked cats. Or rather, liked pictures of cats; the one time Umbridge had come near Blackie, Blackie had hissed and Umbridge had screwed up her face as if she smelled something bad. However, the Ministry had put her in charge of making sure no one believed the Dark Lord was back and that was a task the Death Eaters supported. Besides, the old toad had shifted the balance of power at Hogwarts and for that Millicent was grateful.

It was a long climb after they left the cool peacefulness of the dungeons for the dry, dusty upper floors. Pansy and Draco were breathing heavily so Millicent slowed her long stride to match their slower steps.

"What do you think she wants?" Millicent asked.

"Maybe she's going to make you a prefect, too," Pansy huffed. She paused on the staircase. "That would be so much fun! You could patrol with us and hand out detentions." She clapped her hands once, her brown eyes shining.

It seemed unlikely, though the idea of accompanying her friends on their patrols did sound fun. "But Draco said she wants to see a bunch of us. How many prefects does she need?"

Pansy snickered. "I bet she needs quite a few to help her keep order."

"Yeah." Draco smirked. "For some reason the students don't listen to her."

Behind him, Vince and Greg snickered in unison.

When they reached the gargoyle on the third floor, they were joined by the group of older students. Her friends puffed out a breath of relief once they stepped on the moving stone staircase. At the top, Millicent looked around the circular office with interest. It was even bigger than she had thought, with an assortment of silver instruments that may have belonged to Dumbledore, though the plates with kitten images doubtless belonged to the woman dressed in pink sitting behind an enormous desk with a large wooden block announcing her title in gold letters.

Draco nudged Millicent and pointed at three brooms chained and padlocked to an iron peg behind the desk. For once, someone in authority had actually punished Potter and his cohorts for wrongdoing. They were so accustomed to getting away with anything they chose to do they had actually been surprised when their two-on-one assault on Draco resulted in lifetime suspensions from quidditch. She and Draco exchanged a smile and Pansy reached over and squeezed his arm.

Umbridge cleared her throat with her annoying hem hem and they all stood to attention facing her desk.

She smiled sweetly and leaned back in the tall-backed chair. "I called you here because I have taken note of the most responsible and trustworthy students in this school. I have an important task for you."

Millicent straightened up from her usual hunched position and looked as trustworthy as possible. From the corner of her eye, she saw the others do the same.

"Dear Mr. Filch has been most helpful in enforcing my decrees and quelling the occasional rebellious student."

It was an effort for Millicent to hold in her snort at Filch's helpfulness; the nasty squib was probably salivating at the idea that Umbridge could bring back whips and chains as punishments.

"But the poor man can hardly patrol the entire school day in and day out without assistance."

Pansy raised an eyebrow in Millicent's direction. Perhaps she had been right about adding more prefects.

"While most of the student body has been obedient and well-behaved,--"

Millicent held back another snort.

"--there may be further unpleasant misbehaviour, so I have decided to create a group to assist in maintaining discipline. This group will punish troublemakers as well as encourage our rule-abiding students to come forward when they witness disobedience and insubordination or hear someone express ideas contrary to facts laid out by the Ministry."

Careful to keep her expression blank, Millicent gave no hint of questioning the "facts" laid out by the Ministry regarding the return of the Dark Lord.

"I was impressed by your dutiful assistance apprehending the dissidents of Dumbledore's Army, and I would like to appoint each of you to my Inquisitorial Squad." Umbridge steepled her fingers and peered at them from her bulging eyes. "You will monitor other students, punish misbehaviour, and read all incoming and outgoing post."

Draco was standing so straight and tall, Millicent was afraid he might snap.

"Ma'am," Cassius Warrington said, "we would be pleased to be of service to the Headmistress in any capacity she deems appropriate."

Millicent admired the smooth flattery he used during this speech while she nodded along with the others to indicate their willingness to participate.

"Excellent." The pink toad stood, though it did little to increase her height. The top of her head barely came to Millicent's chin.

As she charmed a tiny, silver "I" onto each of their robes, Millicent could see the thinness of Umbridge's mousy brown hair where the black velvet bow pulled it back.

"The Ministry of Magic thanks you for your loyal support."

"What disciplines did you say we could use, Headmistress, in ensuring compliance with the Ministry's decrees?" Graham asked, the gleeful anticipation on his wide face obvious.

Umbridge waved her pudgy, bejewelled fingers in the air. "Anything you deem appropriate; detention, taking house points, suspension from extracurricular activities." She smiled sweetly. "Don't hesitate to bring the slightest infraction to me."

Cassius politely bowed his head in response. Millicent barely contained her excitement. Pansy's brown eyes shone and Draco practically vibrated.

Flora and Hestia exchanged a glance of a silent communication. She wondered if they could read each other's minds. The twins were rarely seen apart; Graham was the only person outside their family allowed into their tight circle.

Once each member of the newly-constitute squad bowed respectfully to the Headmistress, a gesture which caused her flaccid face to wrinkle with pleasure, they filed out of the large office and down the stairs. The older students marched off, already alert for potential rule-breakers, but Millicent, Pansy, Draco, Vince, and Greg huddled together.

"What do we do?" Vince asked, looking to Draco.

"We enforce the decrees of our esteemed Headmistress and the Ministry of Magic." Draco rubbed his hands together, grey eyes alight. "And we even a few scores."

Greg's square face was wrinkled in confusion. "She wants us to punish anyone who argues that the Dark Lord is back when we know--"

Pansy elbowed him in the ribs hard enough that the big boy winced and frowned at her, rubbing his side. "Shut it."

"The Minister for Magic said that never happened, that Harry Potter is a liar or a fool, and anyone who disagrees is a dissident and a troublemaker," Draco said sternly.

Greg dropped his gaze and shuffled his feet.

"Do you understand?"

Both Greg and Vince nodded emphatically.

"So, are we ready to put an end to Potter's lies?" Draco asked, holding out his hand.

"And demonstrate our loyalty to our esteemed Minister Fudge and his Ministry?" Pansy put her hand on top of his.

"And to our upstanding and hard-working Headmistress?" Millicent put her hand on top of Pansy's.

"And dish out some payback?" Vince's question sounded more like an actual question as he laid his meaty palm on Millicent's.

Draco rolled his eyes and nodded. Greg grinned happily.

"Then let's go reclaim our school from the mudbloods and blood traitors."

At Draco's words, they broke into groups to restore balance and fairness to Hogwarts.

#

Professor Snape's face was grim when he arrived in the dorm in the middle of the night with a summons for Pansy to come to McGonagall's office. Daphne pulled her quilt over her ears and Tracey continued snoring, but Millicent got up and stumbled up the stone steps behind Pansy, blinking in the soft green light of the common room. Draco, Theo, Vince, and Greg all stood with Snape, their hair mussed and their eyelids heavy with robes pulled on over nightclothes and slippers. They followed their head of house out the door and Millicent remained on the stairs, her bare feet cold on the stone, wondering if she should return to her warm bed. Except she was not certain she would be able to sleep until her friends returned and reassured her the pained expression on Professor Snape's face was merely pique at being roused so late. She shivered, frozen with indecision, until finally she ascended the last few steps into the room and curled up on a leather couch in front of the glowing embers of the fireplace. She added a couple of thick logs, watching the wood smoke, then glow, then catch fire and blaze up with a burst of crackling.

The new logs had collapsed and settled to embers once more and she had decided to go back to bed after all, when the door slid open and Pansy stumbled in, the boys behind her. Pansy's eyes were glassy and she looked around the room as if it was unfamiliar. Vince and Greg looked more confused than usual. Draco looked even more dazed and his cheeks had trails of damp, but it was Theo's expression that brought Millicent to her feet. She had never seen the solemn, reserved student boiling with fury. At the moment, she was more afraid of the gangly, quiet boy than any of the others.

She nearly took a step back before Pansy's lost look and Draco's heartbreak brought her forward to put her arms around them both. At her hug, Pansy burst into tears and Millicent felt Draco shuddering though he made no sound. Theo stared at them, his eyes burning with hatred she hoped was not directed at her, then he turned and disappeared out the door. Vince and Greg collapsed together on the couch, their strong frames supporting each other as if their physical strength had been drained. Millicent stood with one arm around the sobbing dark-haired girl and the other around the shaking blond boy, trying to hold back her own worry and fear until they were ready to tell her what had happened.

When Pansy finally lifted her head, her breath coming in hiccoughs and her face blotchy, Millicent patted her back and met her moist brown eyes with a questioning look. Pansy seemed more aware of her surroundings now, and anger replaced her dazed expression. She took Draco's elbow in one hand and Millicent's in the other and pulled them both down onto the green and gold carpet in front of the dying fire.

"What happened?" Millicent asked.

"Azkaban," Pansy said in a scratchy whisper.

Millicent stared in confusion.

"My mother's in Azkaban. Draco's father, too."

"And my father," Vince said, his voice toneless.

"And mine," Greg added.

Draco stared at her with watery grey eyes. "And Theo's. They've been locked up in that stone prison with ghouls as guardians."

Pansy's lip trembled. "And Basil."

Horror-struck, Millicent tried to picture Pansy's handsome, smiling brother inside a fortress locked in a sea of misery. It was a place of horror from which no one escaped; not alive and sane. Prisoners who starved to death or took their own lives were the only ones who truly got out. She had seen Draco's aunt and uncle, the ones who had survived imprisonment, and what was left of them was not human. No wonder Theo had been devastated; his father was elderly and ill, he would not even last as long as Lucius or Basil or Hyacinthe. "How? Why?"

"Potter." Draco's face twisted with hatred beyond the intense dislike he had shown since Harry's rejection the day of their meeting on the train. This hate was on par with the fury she had seen in Theo's eyes. "Potter and his band of rebels broke into the Ministry."

Shock froze Millicent's questions in her throat. Broke into the Ministry? How would children do that? Why in Merlin's name would they even try?

"There was a fight," Pansy said through clenched teeth. "That utter bitch, McGonagall, gloated that a bunch of school children had a showdown with several Death Eaters, that almost all of those Death Eaters had been captured and imprisoned, and that everyone now knows the Dark Lord is back."

Millicent gasped, though it felt like her lungs could not draw in enough air to breathe. What about their plans? What would happen now? Had their world just been doomed?

Pansy wrapped her hands around her knees and rocked. "My mother and Basil will die or go insane in that place."

At a loss to offer her friend comfort or hope, Millicent laid a hand on Pansy's shoulder, trying not to think about her mother's younger sister who had committed suicide in Azkaban before her twentieth birthday..

"We'll get them out." Draco reached over to put a hand on his friend's other shoulder, his expression fierce. "Pansy, we'll get them out."


	4. Rise of Voldemort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sixth year (16 to 17 years old).

Millicent ignored the ridiculous song the Sorting Hat invented this year; some drivel about uniting in the face of their enemies, which meant aligning with Dumbledore in his power games. Ironically, unity was also her mission though it was in direct opposition to the crafty headmaster. On the train ride to Hogwarts, she and her friends were to recruit fellow students willing to stand with them and defend their world. Graham, Hestia, and Flora had talked with the seventh-years; she and Theo mingled with the younger Slytherins; Draco and Pansy sat with Blaise, hoping to recruit him to the cause; and Vince and Greg kept their ears open but stayed quiet. Everyone who might be sympathetic had been asked to gather in an unused classroom on the second floor after the start-of-term feast. Millicent thought the first step had gone well, now they would have to convince the sympathizers of the magnitude and urgency of the danger they all faced from muggles and those of their own kind that would betray them to muggles. It was the biggest responsibility she had ever shouldered.

She picked at the roast chicken, lamb chops, potatoes, vegetables, and Yorkshire pudding heaped on her plate while her eyes continually flicked to the main doors of the Great Hall. In addition to her nervousness about the upcoming meeting, Draco had disappeared. Pansy and Blaise arrived a short time ago, but Draco was not with them and no one knew where he was. The last time they saw him had been in their shared train compartment. Millicent had caught a glimpse of Mad Moody's protege lurking around the train station and she worried that Aurors intended to snatch Draco while he was alone and unprotected between Hogsmeade and the school. At least that crazy man with his creepy eye had not been there: his wooden-looking face and growly voice sent shivers crawling down her spine.

Her eyes skipped up and down the table, looking for anyone else who was missing, but all the other Slytherin students were accounted for. She squinted across the room at the other three tables. Her unease snapped tight and a shiver crawled up her spine: Potter was also missing. If he and Draco had crossed paths, her friend was in real danger. Greg and Vince were here, along with anyone else who could protect their blond leader, and any instructor, other than Professor Snape, would unquestionably side with Potter regardless of the circumstances. Each of the last two years, Draco had been seriously wounded in magical attacks on the Hogwarts Express with no consequences to the perpetrators. If Golden Boy had tossed a curse Draco's way, her friend could be dead or dying and it would be utterly ignored by those in authority.

Millicent pushed her plate away, the smells suddenly nauseating to her empty stomach. She exchanged a glance with Pansy, who nudged her chin slightly in the direction of the Gryffindor table. Millicent nodded in return. They began to rise from their seats in unison, determined to find Draco, when he strode into the Great Hall looking unharmed and a little smug. She slowly resumed her seat as Draco sat between her and Pansy and, without a word, filled a plate with as much food as Vince and Greg together. He ignored Pansy's questions and nonchalantly stuffed a chicken leg in his mouth.

Potter's place remained empty and by the expressions on his cronies' faces, they had no idea where he was or why he was late. She glanced from Draco, who radiated satisfaction, to Pansy's annoyed curiosity, to Greg's obliviousness, then she shrugged and pulled her plate closer. Draco would tell them in good time what happened.

She was scooping up the last of her potatoes soaked in gravy when Draco dabbed his lips with his napkin and leaned forward. They all bent their heads towards him, straining to hear through the cloud of noise in the hall as students ate and chattered.

"Guess who I ran into on the train?"

"Potter," Pansy said.

At Draco's frown, she rolled her eyes. Greg blinked and his thick neck swivelled so he could see the Gryffindor table. A couple of Weasleys stared suspiciously back.

"Where?" Vince asked.

"In our compartment."

Millicent felt her heart skip. Had Draco blurted anything Potter should not have heard?

"Hiding under an invisibility cloak."

No wonder the sneaky git had gotten away with some of the things he was rumoured to have done; it had not been solely teacher indulgence. They would have to be especially diligent during sensitive discussions. She eyed the Gryffindor table. "Where is he now?"

"Hopefully still under it on his way back to London." Draco delicately wiped his hands on his napkin, his smile impossibly wider than before.

The doors to the Great Hall swung wide and Harry Potter strode through, head high as he marched towards the Gryffindor table at the far side of the room.

"Too bad." Draco did not sound disappointed. He stuffed a forkful of dessert into his face and smirked at the Golden Boy.

Potter was moving so fast, he was almost a blur beneath the floating candles. By the time he headed towards his group of followers, people were standing and peering in his direction, blocking her view, but Millicent had seen that he looked worse than usual, with dried blood smeared on his face. The snotty mudblood who had hitched her wagon to Potter's coattails fussed over him when he reached his seat but his red-headed sidekick simply goggled.

Draco helped himself to three more desserts while describing how he had caught Potter eavesdropping and put him in a full body bind. When he mimed breaking Potter's nose, Vince and Greg broke into howls of laughter and Pansy clapped. Blaise, Daphne, and Tracey added their applause and Theo reached around Millicent to pat Draco's back. Millicent could not restrain a smile of her own thinking of Potter getting a bit of his own back, though she glanced nervously at the head table from the corner of her eye. Thankfully, the attention of those on the platform was focused on the Headmaster as he rose to his feet.

Buoyed by his encounter with Potter, Draco entertained their table with a display of lighthearted magic. Despite the importance of the upcoming meeting, Millicent giggled at Draco's antics with his fork, though she kept half an ear on the opening speech. She gasped with the rest of the room to see Dumbledore's injured hand and applauded as enthusiastically as any Slytherin when Snape's new teaching appointment was announced, but she ignored the subterfuge about danger and curfews which increased polarization among students and staff. If only the school had a leader devoted to bringing them together instead of exacerbating their differences and diverting attention to false threats. That responsibility had fallen on the shoulders of her friends and allies. Soon, they would gather everyone who might become supporters of their cause and try to convince them of the real danger: muggles and their allies among the wizarding population. The future of their entire world might rest on how many they won over tonight.

The noise level swelled at the end of the headmaster's interminable speech, and Millicent's stomach churned anxiously. As she stood and shuffled out, she glanced in Potter's direction and frowned to see him delay following the crowd out of the hall, leaning down and pretending to tie his laces. When she looked back over her shoulder from the midst of chattering students, however, she was relieved to see both Potter and his pet weasel file out of the hall and up the stairs without paying attention to those gathering in the Entrance Hall.

Rather than head straight to their dorms, she and her friends paused at the door that led down towards the dungeons, catching the eye of each person they had previously spoken with, before casually climbing the marble staircase to the second floor in groups of two and three. At the landing, they slipped down a corridor empty of portraits, keeping to the shadowy side away from the brightly lit Entrance Hall. Vince and Greg took up posts on either side of a classroom doorway while the rest of them filed inside. Several minutes passed as students trickled in and took seats, talking in hushed whispers.

Millicent was fidgeting in her seat when Theo's bony hand slipped into her large one. She stared at him in surprise. He squeezed her hand and gave her an encouraging smile. The tightness in her chest eased and she smiled back.

Theo's long, thin fingers clasped in hers, she relaxed enough to study the people gathering in the room. About half wore green and silver crests and ties since it had been easiest to talk with students they knew. The Ravenclaws she recognized were Eugene Bagnold, whose aunt had been Minister for Magic, and Marcus Belby, both a year older than her. Only one of the Hufflepuffs looked familiar. She frowned at the presence of the tall, skinny blond boy with an upturned nose; despite being openly critical of Potter, Smith was spineless. She would not count on him having her back when it came to open warfare. Nathaniel Cole and the girl beside him in red and gold, however, looked like sturdy soldiers. Gryffindors might be arrogant and annoying but they would stand and fight to the end.

Vince and Greg came inside last, shutting the doors behind them and taking up posts on either side once more. Draco stood at the front of the room, directly in front of where Millicent and Theo sat. Everyone quieted and looked towards him.

"You all know the Dark Lord has returned." He clasped his hands behind his back as faced his audience. "He's returned to finish the work he started, to protect us from muggles who are poisoning the air and water, who are multiplying so quickly they now outnumber us a thousand to one."

There were several gasps and mutterings.

"We think they don't know about us, but every year muggle-borns admitted to this school expose our world to their families and heretics among us encourage this interaction."

Heads nodded.

"While muggles aren't intelligent enough to use magic, they are capable of incredible destruction. Your grandparents probably saw the massacre when their fireworks rained on London for eight months."

"They have worse than that," Yurika Haneda said. His face screwed up as if in pain. "If you had seen what my grandparents saw..."

Draco gave him a sympathetic glance before continuing. "Their weapons could annihilate us if they become aware of our existence. Meantime, the air, even in wizarding areas, stings your eyes and clogs your lungs."

More nods.

"We can't simply wait for them to destroy what's left of our world. We can't wait for them to stumble upon us and turn their weapons in our direction because flame-freezing charms won't stop them this time."

Millicent shuddered at the stories her grandparents had told of great-aunts burned alive, wandless and unable to save themselves. It was a terrible way to die.

"But what can we do? We're only children," the skinny blond Hufflepuff said. "We shouldn't even be here. We should have stayed home. The school isn't safe."

A few of those closest to him exchanged frightened looks. Millicent's free hand curled into a fist and Theo squeezed the fingers still entwined with his. She took a deep breath and relaxed her fist. Words would shut Smith up more effectively than her landing a punch on his turned-up nose.

Draco only smiled. "But here, at Hogwarts, we're in close proximity to Dumbledore and Harry Potter every day."

"The Chosen One?" the dark-haired girl with a red-and-gold tie snickered.

Several students near her rolled their eyes and shook their heads. Pansy mimed breaking a nose and there were outright giggles.

"How does that help us?" Smith whined.

Draco's smile twisted into a smirk. "Who knows what we might accomplish being in the right place at the right time?"

"I'm with you." Nathaniel Cole leapt up and the dark-haired girl beside him jumped to her feet.

Millicent tried not to snort at the Gryffindors being the first to step forward.

Eugene Bagnold stood more slowly. "What you said is mostly true, though I can tell you that the Ministry's figures for the current muggle-to-wizard population ratio is more like ten thousand to one. There are millions in the city of London alone."

His fellow Ravenclaws paled and bent their heads together. A shiver went up Millicent's spine at the memory of endless buildings and cars. She could not even imagine millions of people in one place.

"Muggles are more suspicious of our existence than we like to believe," Eugene added. "It's only a matter of time until they discover our locations and turn their weapons on us."

Marcus Belby shook his head. "It may not matter. The loss of plant and animal life is even more dire than we thought. The danger posed by muggles might actually be more from their ignorant waste and pollution than their weapons."

Smith opened his mouth.

A Hufflepuff with black hair in a thick braid down her back elbowed him aside. "The variety of magical creatures and plants diminishes every year, until it's become difficult to get ingredients for vital potions."

A girl at the back of the room with a blue and bronze tie jumped to her feet, clutching a roll of parchment. "Weather-working spells have become unpredictable; no matter how quickly we adjust and readjust, the results are more and more volatile."

One of her housemates frowned. "Weather is unpredictable. It's a natural cycle."

"This isn't natural," the Ravenclaw snapped. "We haven't seen anything like this in eight hundred years of recorded enchantments."

From the back of the room, Daphne raised her melodic voice above the ripples of argument that broke out. "Muggles are as affected by weather as we are, more so actually. If we worked together--"

"They don't know we exist," Eugene said. "Not yet, thank Merlin. If they did..." he shuddered.

"How is your Dark Lord going to save us from them if muggles outnumber us ten thousand to one and have weapons to rival our most powerful spells?" the yellow-haired Smith asked, ignoring the scowl his housemate gave him.

"Once the Dark Lord has taken over, he'll end the influx of muggles into our world so they can't betray us. Then he'll strike at them before they have a chance to strike at us, obliterating and frightening them so completely that they bow to our more advanced society." Draco rocked back on his heels, hands clasped behind him. "If you're brave enough to join our defence, stand with me now."

At the end of this speech, Theo and Millicent stood together and moved behind him. Pansy joined them, her brown eyes shining and fixed on Draco. Hestia, Flora, Graham, and the other seventh-year Slytherins stood in solidarity as well. Cole and his fellow Gryffindor linked arms and urged the students around them to join. Millicent smiled at her younger brother as Myles jumped up and several other third- and fourth-years enthusiastically followed suit. She was proud of him, not that she would allow him near any fighting.

The room filled with movement and noise as half the room stood and others bent their heads together to talk among themselves. At the back, Blaise remained seated along with Daphne and Tracey. The two girls exchanged heated whispers, their hands flailing. Millicent had never seen them argue in all the years they shared living space. She hoped her roommates joined the fight; it would be heartbreaking to leave them behind.

The Gryffindors were the first to leave but not before pledging their support in a showy display of handshakes and bows. Several Hufflepuffs crowded around Draco, patting his hand before slipping out by twos and threes once more, ignoring Smith when he tried to speak with them. The Ravenclaws huddled with Bagnold and Belby. Several of them pulled parchment and quill from their robes, scribbling notes and passing them around. Eventually, two-thirds of them, Bagnold and Belby among them, shook hands with Draco while the others filed out of the room, parchments in hand, whispering together. Millicent hoped the undecided ones eventually concluded that joining the Death Eaters was the only intelligent decision.

The Slytherins were the last to trickle out, each one congratulating Draco on his impassioned plea before they left. Millicent waited until most were gone before making her way to the back of the room and sitting next to Blaise. He greeted her calmly, his tall frame stretched out across the chair he occupied with his long legs crossed at the ankles. Daphne and Tracey broke off their low-voiced argument and greeted her politely.

Pansy joined them. "What's wrong, Daph?"

The blonde girl sighed and shook her head. "I don't agree that muggles are dangerous."

"Why?" Draco took the seat next to Blaise.

"They're not all dirty and ignorant," Daphne said. "They wouldn't turn on us just because we have magic. And many of them are just as upset as we are at the loss of creatures and plants."

"Nor are muggle-borns a threat." Adrian Pucey leaned against a wall nearby, his hair as black as Blaise's but straight instead of curly. "They're witches and wizards like the rest of us."

"Their families--" Draco began but Pucey held up a hand.

"I agree they should be taken away from their muggle families and raised in proper wizarding households, but they're no less magic than we are. Look at Granger."

Draco's jaw tightened.

Pansy sat forward, her lip curled. "So she can read books," Pansy said. "That doesn't change the fact that our families have lived and worked and fought for our world for generations while her ancestors were too ignorant to notice our existence."

"But she's a witch, not a muggle, and she'll live and work and fight for our world because it's hers now, too. I don't agree with banning her kind from Hogwarts or any part of the wizarding world."

"Why are you still here, then?" Pansy asked.

"Because I do see the threat muggles pose, to us and to the creatures and plants who share our world."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Does that mean you're with us or not?"

"I'm with you." Adrian stood straight. "I'll fight to defend this world and all witches and wizards regardless of their parentage."

"Good enough." Draco held out his hand and the black-haired boy clasped it. "Thanks, Adrian."

"Good luck, Draco."

After Adrian left, they looked at Daphne once more.

"I'm sorry. I'm not with you." The blonde got to her feet and looked at Tracey. "Are you coming?"

Tracey looked up at the girl she had idolized for six years and shook her head once, resolutely, her short brown hair bouncing off her square jaw.

Daphne's head bowed. Then she raised her chin, wished them good night, and left. Millicent sadly watched her go. Then she looked at Tracey, surprised that Daphne's shadow had not followed in her footsteps.

Tracey met her gaze. "My parents were Death Eaters. They survived the first war. Within a year, the Ministry decided to arrest them and my oldest brother. My parents tried to stop Aurors from entering their house, warning their son to escape. Both of them were murdered in their own front hall." Tracey's hands shook. "My brother was caught before he could get away, so they sacrificed themselves for nothing. Because my father killed an Auror before they murdered him, my brother was sentenced to Azkaban as a Dark Wizard. He was only nineteen!" Her thin lips twisted. "Aurors can kill people in their own home in the name of justice, but my father was a criminal because he defended his family. Since he was dead, my brother had to pay. He killed himself in prison."

Millicent blinked the moisture prickling her eyes, hatred burning in her throat.

"I hope the Dark Lord makes them pay." Tracey's eyes glittered. "I want to make them pay."

Millicent reached out and squeezed her hand. "We will. We'll fix the Ministry, we'll end persecution, we'll restore the rightful order."

Pansy blinked, her own eyes shiny, and echoed Millicent.

Draco turned to Blaise. "And you?"

"I know the threat muggles pose, probably better than you do. I lived in fourteen different countries before I was eleven years old. Did you know the places with the richest people have the worst slums? I've seen places dirtier and more congested with muggles than you can possibly imagine." His handsome face momentarily distorted, before he smoothed his features once more. "I hope you wipe them out before they destroy us."

"So you'll help us?"

Blaise shook his head. "Even if your Dark Lord is successful this time, the current regime won't go down without a fight. I'm smart enough to know you all have family connections with power to protect you. I don't."

"Your mother is richer than I am," Pansy muttered.

"She is. But she lives in Israel now and I'm here. She can't shield me from the Ministry. Besides, the men she collects have their eyes on sixteen-year-olds, not thirty-six-year-olds."

Bile rose in Millicent's throat.

"All my mother has to safeguard her now is money, not family, not connections."

"Your own welfare shouldn't matter." Tracey's lips were pressed tightly together. "You shouldn't be concerned about your safety when our world is under attack. You're a coward." Jerkily, she ran from the room.

Sympathy tinged Blaise's expression as he watched her go. He unfolded his lithe body and got to his feet.

"Are you leaving?" Draco asked.

Blaise looked down at them, a smile curling the corners of his full lips. "Don't worry, rich boy, Malfoys always land on their feet. You've got nothing to fear no matter who wins." He gave a courtly bow to Pansy and then to Millicent. "Good night, ladies, Draco, Theo." He nodded farewell to Vince and Greg before he strolled out.

There was a moment of silence.

"That wanker aside, I think tonight was a success," Theo said, breaking the tension.

"You were amazing, Draco." Pansy fluttered her eyelashes at him. "The Dark Lord will be so pleased with the service and devotion you've shown."

A shadow flickered across Draco's grey eyes before he smiled proudly. "Oh, this was nothing. I've been given a special task. Tonight was just to help you assemble the troops we'll need once I'm successful."

Pansy gave him an awed sigh, batting her lashes again.

"Thank you, Draco. I know you can do it," Theo said solemnly.

Millicent looked between the two boys, unease curdling in her chest despite Draco's self-satisfied glow. What was he supposed to do? It had to be dangerous if it was secret. Was Theo involved? An icy shiver of dread went up her spine.

Theo stood and offered her his hand, though his slight frame could not possibly lift her up. She took his hand, anyway, as she got to her feet, her heart pounding when he slid his arm around her.

"Everything will be all right," he whispered in her ear.

This time, the shiver that went up her spine was pleasurable and she could not help smiling at him. Draco's confident swagger as he motioned to Greg and Vince to follow him back to the dorm reassured her further. Draco was the smartest out of all of them, and he would succeed at whatever special job he had been entrusted. Then their friends and comrades and everyone who had pledged their support tonight would stand arm-in-arm to save the world from the growing threats bent on its destruction.

#

Another bang echoed through the dungeon, this one louder than the others, setting the lamps to swaying and shaking dust loose from several dislodged portraits. One of the youngest students jumped in his seat with a shriek, the waving greenish light flickering across his frightened face.

"We should find out what's going on." Theo leapt to his feet. None of them knew what was happening tonight, only that whatever was in the works involved Draco and his special service.

Millicent pulled him back down on the leather sofa and tucked his thin body next to hers. "Graham or Hestia or Flora will update us when we need to know what happened up there." The three had been appointed lookouts, though that was hours ago.

Pansy sat stiffly in the soft armchair, her pink nails dug into the leather.

"Draco said to stay here, and we will stay here," Millicent said firmly, though she barely restrained herself from racing up the steps. Draco had been a physical and emotional wreck for weeks, and even if he had seemed as overjoyed earlier as he had been depressed the week before, she was worried for him. She was worried for all of them tonight.

Greg paced in front of the fireplace. Vince alternated between sitting and standing until Pansy snapped at him to sit down and stay there. She said it with her wand clenched in one pink-nailed hand and he promptly sat.

Tracey appeared at the bottom of the stairs to the girls' dorms, a shaking Daphne wrapped in one arm. It was the first time the two had touched since the start of term despite sharing a dorm room. Millicent had hurt to see coldness between the two girls, and the devastation each of them wore when the other was not looking. This evening, Daphne's blonde hair was a mess, her nails chipped and bitten. Tracey steered her to another of the soft leather couches and sat them both down, hugging her tighter when Daphne buried her head in Tracey's chest.

The door to the common room slammed open and Graham stood there, his barrel chest heaving. "The Dark Mark, over the Astronomy Tower," he panted. "I saw it."

From upstairs, shouts and cries and children's shrieks echoed down the corridor along with another crash, louder now that the heavy oak door was open.

Graham braced his hairy arms on his knees, trying to catch his breath. "I saw Death Eaters and some of that lot that's been patrolling the grounds for 'extra security' and a couple of Potter's cronies. I heard someone was dead--"

Pansy shot to her feet, shoving the big man aside as she pounded up the stone steps in her bare feet and nightclothes.

Millicent followed, shouting at Theo to stay where he was. At the top of the staircase that led into the Entrance Hall, she pushed her way through clumps of pyjama-clad Hufflepuffs and skidded to a stop on the flagstones, trying to spot Pansy or either of the Carrow twins. Pansy had already disappeared into the crowd, either out the oak front doors that had been blasted open or up the marble staircase. She saw Hestia and Flora standing quietly at the edge of the terrified crowd, in the shadow of the staircase rapidly filling with dust-smeared, bloody warriors with their wands out as they raced towards the blasted doors. While teachers wearing robes thrown over nightclothes and an assortment of odd-shaped slippers began rounding up students, Millicent edged her way around to the twins in their identical green nightgowns, watching the mayhem.

"What happened?"

Flora leaned closer to be heard over the teachers' raised voices and students crying. "The Death Eaters blasted their way out." She nodded at the oak front doors. "Potter in the midst of them."

Millicent stared in surprise.

"He came out from behind the tapestry with the hidden staircase, close behind Thorfinn Rowle, before Alecto and Amycus made it down."

If they had all come out of the battle alive, then who was dead? Her stomach churning with dread, Millicent mouthed Draco's name.

Flora's features softened. "Made it out safely."

Millicent reached out blindly for the wall behind her, resting her weight on her arm. Not dead; he was not dead.

"Professor Snape was with him," Hestia said. "He'll protect him."

Millicent nodded, then looked around the Entrance Hall. Blood smeared several of the flagstones and some of the students had their hands over their heads. On the grand staircase stood the loony yellow-haired Ravenclaw that hung around Potter so much along with the youngest Weasley. They stared at the mess before the redhead raced down the final steps and out the door. Madame Pomfrey was making her way from student to student, handing out vials and dealing with cuts and scrapes. Professor Flitwick's tiny head weaved amongst those students who were uninjured but hysterical, though he looked rather dazed himself.

The sharp-faced Auror that had regularly patrolled Hogwarts all term appeared in the open doorway, face streaked with black and hair singed, a long rip down the right side of her robes. Their former Defence teacher stepped up beside her to whisper in her ear, his eyes oddly blank, then the two of them made their way in the direction of the hospital wing. Behind them, whispers ran around the hall that Dumbledore was dead. Some of the crowd in the hall surged towards the doors, and soon shouts and wails rose again, this time from outside.

As the hall emptied, Millicent saw sparkling shards of glass and dozens of rubies shining on the flagstones. She glanced up at the shattered hourglass that once held Gryffindor house points and back down at the blood-stained floor. War had come to them. They were ready.


	5. War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seventh year (17 years old).

Millicent fidgeted on the stiff wooden bench. She was nervous being in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic, a place her parents spoke of with such contempt. A purple paper aeroplane zipped past her head and she nearly drew her wand to blast it to pieces. Beside her, Theo tensed and she calmed herself for his sake. As it was, his leg was bouncing hard enough to shake the bench. She put a hand on his knee and squeezed. Draco looked as worried as Theo; Narcissa, however, sat coolly beside him with his hand clamped in hers, her face inscrutable as she stared at a portrait on the far wall which glared back. Pansy sat on a bench opposite Millicent, her head resting on her father's shoulder. Hawthorne sat on their father's other side with a pinched expression that mimicked Valerian Parkinson exactly. Vince and Greg both stood, attempting to maintain an intimidating stance while fidgeting incessantly and shifting their weight from foot to foot.

When the door opened, they all jumped. Theo half rose from the bench with an expression of anticipation, but his face fell when a tall man with a blond ponytail down his back stepped through, a false smile on his hard, blunt features.

"Corban," Narcissa greeted him.

"Narcissa, my dear, and Valerian, you have the Ministry's sincere apologies for this gross miscarriage of justice." Yaxley stepped aside and gestured at someone in the hall.

Theo tensed again, but it was not his father that entered. Trying to ease his worry for his ailing father, Millicent rubbed his shaking knee, hoping he would not think she was too forward.

Lucius Malfoy was the first of the former prisoners through the door. His wife and son came forward immediately and he embraced them both. Millicent hid her dismay at his grey pallor, bristly face, and unkempt hair. Even in the absence of dementors, it seemed prison had been hard on his health. Her concern for Thorvald Nott intensified.

Hyacinthe Parkinson entered next followed closely by her oldest son. Her long, black hair was knotted and her robes hung loosely but she appeared to have weathered incarceration better than Basil. Her son's cheek was scarred and he limped on his left leg. He staggered when Pansy threw herself into his arms, sobbing, while her parents exchanged a hug. Basil looked helplessly at his parents, his leg wobbling under his sister's weight. With a pat to Theo's stiff shoulder, Millicent stood and eased Pansy away, patting her back and letting her sniffle on Millicent's robes. Basil straightened as much as he could and smiled in gratitude.

Crabbe and Goyle were next. Vince and Greg's fathers had lost weight as well, though both still carried considerable bulk. They greeted their sons with handshakes and a pat on the back. The boys' relief at having their fathers back was palpable, even as they tried to hide it.

Theo nearly vibrated, waiting for his own father to appear. Thorvald was the last into the room, hunched over and leaning heavily on a crude wooden cane. His complexion was greyer than Lucius's and his robes dangled from his thin frame as though mounted to a flagpole. Theo was on his feet in an instant, then hesitated as if afraid an enthusiastic greeting would snap his father's frail form. The moment Thorvald's eyes met those of his son, however, he hobbled forward and enfolded Theo in his emaciated arms.

Yaxley watched them all from beside the open doorway with an unpleasant smile. The Malfoys were the first to end their reunion and ministry official held out a hand as Lucius approached him. Lucius took it with a toss of his hair, a gesture that lacked its usual grandeur now that his shiny locks were dirty and tangled. His hand shook slightly which intensified Yaxley's insincere smile.

"Thank you for your assistance, Corban," Lucius said.

"Service and loyalty are always rewarded, old friend."

Millicent did not miss the subtle threat: service was rewarded but failure was not tolerated by the Dark Lord.

Lucius stiffened, his lip curled in a Malfoy sneer, but made no comment.

Narcissa put an arm around his shoulders. "We should get home. I'm sure you understand, Corban. Come along, Draco."

Millicent touched her friend's hand as he passed and he squeezed her hand in return. He brushed Pansy's arm before his family left, followed by the Crabbes and the Goyles, looking as anxious to leave this place as Millicent felt. Hawthorne stepped forward to take the sobbing Pansy from Millicent and lead her towards the door. The Parkinsons bid their farewells and then Millicent turned back to Theo and his father. Thorvald was older than her father, but he now looked like her grandfather: his skin papery and wrinkled, his eyes sunken. He looked too frail to have a 17-year-old son and a 10-year-old daughter.

She took Thorvald's cane and offered her arm.

"You're a good girl."

His words warmed her heart, but not as much as the teary thankfulness in Theo's blue eyes, so like his father's, as she supported Thorvald's feeble weight. She imagined Theo's gratitude went deeper than friendship, and then berated herself for reading too much into his simple appreciation for her kindness. "Imogene's anxious to see you," she said to cover her embarrassment.

Supported between herself and Theo, Thorvald gave Corban a cold nod as the three of them exited the room. Millicent hid her dismay at how little effort it took to support Theo's father and how bony his fingers were where they clutched her arm. They had the lift to themselves, but in the lobby there were a few hostile stares from people who paused in their rush to or from the offices to mutter about Death Eaters. She ignored them as she and Theo helped his father into the floo and then steadied him when they landed in the large fireplace of Nott Manor.

At his appearance, a young girl threw herself forward and encircled his waist with her small arms.

He stroked her lank, brown hair. "I'm home, honey. It's all right. I'm home."

Afraid to let go and leave Theo to support both his father and sister but uncomfortable at intruding on an intimate family moment, Millicent stood awkwardly while Thorvald comforted his daughter and Theo held back his own tears. After a moment of uncertainty, Millicent helped Thorvald to one of the wingback chairs that faced the fireplace, his daughter still clinging to him.

She set his cane next to the chair before she turned to Theo. "I should go."

Thorvald looked tired and the family probably wanted time alone together.

"Thank you for your help," Theo said. "Thank you for being here."

She nodded and wondered what he would think if she hugged him. Boys did not appreciate affection from her. Not even Draco who had been her friend for years and never noticed how she looked at him had ever offered her the gentleness he showed Pansy or Daphne or even Tracey. Boys did not think of her like that. No one looked at her the way they looked at those two Gryffindor girls who giggled together in the corridors.

Except Theo was looking at her like that now. Abruptly, he leaned closer and kissed her. Millicent's heart pounded painfully against her ribs.

He pulled back. "Good night."

She tried to frame a proper farewell, her mouth opening and closing uselessly, before she turned and sprinted for the floo, tossing in a handful of green powder and calling for home. She landed with a lurch, cursing herself for running away. She should have said something, done something. What would he think? She was rubbish at this stuff.

Her parents were sitting at the large carved wooden table when she stumbled out of the fireplace into the kitchen. Both looked up at her ungraceful entrance and she willed away her blush.

"Are they home?" her mother asked.

It took a moment to collect her thoughts. The prisoners had been released, and had gone home with their families. "Yes."

Her father heaved a sigh of relief and her mother scrubbed a hand across her face.

She looked between them. "Why were you worried?"

Her parents exchanged a look, then her mother pulled a chair out and gestured her into it. "We were concerned it was merely a ploy, dangling possible freedom in front of their loved ones once more only to take it away."

"Why would Yaxley do that?"

"Not Yaxley, Pumpkin. The one he takes orders from."

Her confusion increased. "But the Dark Lord rewards his loyal followers." Yaxley had even said so.

Her parents exchanged another look. Her father muttered an Imperturbable Charm, despite the muffling and protective charms that surrounded their house.

Her mother leaned closer, lowering her voice. "The Dark Lord uses punishments more than rewards; why do you think Lucius and the others were left to rot in prison all this time? We weren't sure whether their suffering--and their families' suffering--had satisfied the Dark Lord's anger."

"But, he promised." Pansy had been inconsolable for weeks, Draco and Theo seething with fury, Vince and Greg confused and lost. They had believed in the Dark Lord's promise that their parents and siblings would soon be free; it was all they spoke about since receiving news of the prisoners' release.

Her father snorted. "He has promised much, and I have yet to see him provide any true protection for us from the muggle threat. If anything, they've been stirred up rather than subjugated by the violence."

"This is why I hesitated to support to support Lord Voldemort last time." Her mother sighed and buried one hand in her thick, black hair. "Despite his pretty words and his charm, he was more interested in his own power than in protecting wizarding society. It's worse now. He's obsessed with immortality and Harry Potter."

Milicent stared at her parents. What they were saying was disloyal. She was ashamed of them, and she was afraid.

Her father took her hand between his. "We're sorry for frightening you, but you're seventeen now. You need to understand that supporting a cause doesn't mean blindly following. Not all Death Eaters share our convictions or our aims; some of those the Dark Lord gathers to him are merely interested in power or personal protection."

"Some are nothing more than thugs," her mother said with a shudder. "As bad as Aurors."

Draco had told Millicent about Greyback and his plan to overrun wizarding society with werewolves. Her skin crawled at the thought of that creature having been inside Hogwarts the same time she was. "But the Malfoys and the Parkinsons want the same thing we do; they see the dangers muggles and muggle-borns pose and they want to protect our society."

"Of course they do." Her father patted her hand again. "But you're a Slytherin, you know how easily people are deluded and lead by their convictions into situations they never anticipated. I think perhaps Lucius has realized he and his family are in too deep. They're too close to the Dark Lord; too valuable and too noticeable. And Hyacinthe is blinded by her devotion to Lord Voldemort; she tries too hard and one day she'll take on an impossible task and face the Dark Lord's anger when she fails."

"You can't mean..." Millicent from her father to her mother and back again. "You can't mean to become traitors?"

Her father choked. "No. That would seal our death warrants."

"Besides, the Death Eaters are the only ones who face the fact that our world is in danger and are willing to act to save it. Despite the Dark Lord's obsession with his own immortality, this is the only way to make real, lasting change." Her mother leaned closer and squeezed Millicent's hand and her father's. "We only wanted you to have your eyes open, and not lose sight of what's important."

#

Millicent, Theo, Draco, Pansy, Vince, and Greg climbed the stairs to the third floor. Theo walked beside her, his arm occasionally brushing hers. He had seemed to offer his free hand, the one not clutching his book bag, when they met in the corridor but she had not been certain she read his gesture correctly and had merely turned to walk beside him, uncomfortably aware of closeness but too unsure to reach out.

None of them spoke except Vince and Greg who chatted loudly to each other about raids their fathers had participated in as they swaggered up the staircase. The usual swell of noise from corridors full of children moving from one class to another was absent this year and the swish of robes and crinkling of parchment was unnaturally loud. There was a lingering coppery odour and the smell of sweat was more powerful than in the past. The silvery outline of letters spelling "Dumbledore's Army, Still Recruiting" glowed faintly on the wall and every child passing carefully averted their eyes.

At the top of the staircase, the Slytherin students met a group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs coming down the corridor from the Dark Arts classroom. The youngest Weasley and another Gryffindor supported between them the yellow-haired boy who had asked annoying questions at their recruitment meeting the previous year. The Hufflepuff was twitching, his skin had a grey tinge, and his feet dragged along the stone floor as the girls half-carried him. The hem of his robe swept grime from the hallway and its right side was even dirtier as if he had writhed on the floor.

The red-head glared at the approaching Slytherins, her lip curled in a feral snarl. "Too bad you lot don't study the Dark Arts with us." She fixed her scowl on Draco. "You'd make a better target than Smith here."

Draco shouldered past her without a response. When Millicent looked back, the two Gryffindors were hauling the limp boy down the stairs, his shoes clunking against each step.

"Do you think she used _Crucio_ on him?" Vince whispered, his eyes following the red-headed witch with fascinated admiration.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Of course she did. The Weasleys are as well-versed in ancient curses as any pure-blood for all they pretend to abhor the 'Dark' arts."

Vince had not taken his eyes from the girls and Greg had to yank the sleeve of his robe to get him to follow the group headed for the Dark Arts classroom. Whether he was entranced by a pretty girl or enamoured of anyone who cast an Unforgivable, Millicent could not say. They had begun the term studying Fiendfyre, a curse she had been too nervous to attempt until Greg called a fiery serpent on his second try. In seven years, she had not seen that boy master a charm or spell so quickly, certainly he had never completed an assignment before her, and his sudden confidence made her gather sufficient courage to attempt the curse. She had managed a flickering jungle cat, which was more success than many of the others, and considered that enough. Her parents would be horrified if they knew she had done even that much with a spell so dangerously unpredictable. Apparently, the sixth-years had already moved past Fiendfyre to more advanced curses.

They filed into the classroom, taking seats on the right side near Tracey and Daphne and leaving the left side for the Ravenclaws.

Professor Carrow stood at the front of the room, rocking his squat body back on his heels, his tiny eyes bright with anticipation. He rubbed his doughy palms together. "Today, you're gonna learn to Cruciate."

Greg went rigid with excitement. Draco, however, lost what little colour his pale skin had.

Daphne slowly raised her hand, and Millicent admired her nerve when she met the professor's beady stare without a flinch.

"What?" the pudgy man snapped.

"Why would we learn a torture curse?" Daphne's musical voice carried throughout the room.

"Because in case it escaped your notice while you were curling your hair," the professor wrinkled his nose at Daphne's smooth blonde tresses, "there's a war on, little girl."

Her wide blue eyes held his tiny black ones. "Wouldn't it be more useful to learn defensive spells, Professor?"

"Are you gonna hide in a corner with a shield charm while the enemy fires curses at you and your friends?" Amycus Carrow squinted at her, then looked around the room. "D'you think the terrorists are gonna stick to jinxes and hexes? D'you think Potter and his fellow rebels will back off and leave if you deflect a curse or two? D'you think they'll hesitate to use a so-called Unforgivable against any of you?"

"No, Professor," Vince replied loudly.

Carrow nodded, his jowls flapping beneath his chin. "Then are you gonna fight fire with fire?"

"Yes, Professor," Eugene Bagnold said.

Millicent cringed at the thought of facing a Cruciatus Curse, though she knew that when it came to battle she was likely to endure that and worse. While both Carrow siblings struck her as stupid and needlessly cruel, Professor Carrow was correct in preparing them to withstand torture. She did not, however, relish the thought of trying it herself.

The pudgy professor rubbed his hands together again. He let out a wheezy giggle. "You, there, on your feet."

A good-looking boy with black hair and brown eyes stood slowly. Corner's handsome face was marred by a purple welt on his left cheek and a cut above his eye.

"The spell is _Crucio_." The professor pointed his wand at the boy as he demonstrated the curse and the handsome Ravenclaw doubled over, screaming in pain. "You, too, on your feet." Amycus Carrow pointed at the Ravenclaw who had sat next to Corner.

Boot glared at the professor, his black eyes spitting hate though he was shaking as he stood.

The teacher faced the class. "One of you gonna have a go?"

There was a rustling of robes as students turned to look at each other or hunched down in their seats, afraid to catch anyone's eye.

Carrow fixed his tiny eyes on Draco and a lopsided leer curled his lip. "Young Mr. Malfoy, please demonstrate what you've learnt."

Tension radiated from his stiff shoulders but Draco stood without a flinch, lifted his wand, and aimed the torture curse at Boot. Immediately, the boy doubled over, though not a sound left his lips as his face twisted in pain. Draco dropped his arm and sat again, staring straight ahead.

The professor wheezed again. "Now, can I have a volunteer?"

Greg's hand shot into the air, and Millicent smiled with grim humour at Greg volunteering an answer in class for the first time.

"Good, good. On your feet."

At the professor's urging, Greg stood.

"Go on, give it a try. You have to mean it; you have to wanna cause pain."

Greg lifted his wand, pointed it at Boot, and uttered the spell. This time, the boy dropped to the floor and a scream escaped his clenched jaw.

"I did it." Greg examined his wand as if confused at its sudden ability to execute his commands.

Millicent leaned closer to Draco. "How can you do it?" she whispered. "How can you mean to hurt them when they've never done anything to you?"

His head turned in her direction and his grey eyes blinked. One thin shoulder lifted and dropped down again. "I pretend it's _him_." Draco faced forward again and stared at the wall.

Her heart stuttered and she sucked in a breath. It sounded as if Draco now hated the Dark Lord whose return had given him such hope and joy. Since Lord Voldemort had taken up residence in Draco's home, his pointed features were even more pronounced with the hollows beneath his cheekbones and Theo told her he woke up screaming most nights.

"Excellent." Amycus Carrow pressed his hands together and looked at the class. "Who's next?"

Tracey tentatively lifted her hand. The professor impatiently motioned at her to stand. Tracey lifted her wand, her arm trembling slightly, and pointed it at the dark-haired Corner, whose eye twitched as he stared back. She said the spell. Corner squeezed his eyes shut, but the spell only made him stumble backward a few steps. He cracked one eye open and looked back at her.

"Remember, you have to mean it. Try harder, girl."

Tracey took a breath, then lifted her wand and shouted, " _Crucio_!"

This time the handsome boy was thrown backward, knocking down an empty table and two chairs before his head hit the floor with a crack, adding more bruises and scrapes to his collection. He groaned and curled into a ball.

"Good, good." Amycus Carrow turned his tiny eyes to Daphne. "Now you."

Her flawless skin paled but her blue eyes were cool. "No."

The professor's pudgy face turned a blotchy red. "Do it, girl."

Daphne's full lips pressed firmly together as she shook her head without breaking their locked gaze.

"If you're too weak to do it, perhaps you can help another way. You." Carrow pointed at Tracey who still stood with her wand outstretched. "Show your friend what she'll face in battle, Cruciate her."

Tracey's face was stark against her black hair, her square jaw trembling. She turned frightened eyes on Daphne, who shook her head slightly, blue eyes wide.

"Do it," the professor demanded.

Tracey lifted her wand higher, but her hand shook so hard the bit of wood slipped from her fingers. It clattered against the stones at her feet. Quickly, she bent to retrieve it, then remained kneeling on the floor, her short black hair falling forward around her face. Millicent wanted to help the girl to her feet, but did not dare interfere.

"Get up, get on with it." Amycus Carrow took a step closer.

Tracey slowly lifted her head and stared at Daphne. Then she dropped her gaze. "I can't."

Daphne stood and stretched a hand out to Tracey, pulling her to her feet. The blonde put an arm around Tracey's shoulders and stared back at Amycus Carrow with challenge in her eyes.

A lopsided leer twisted the professor's pudgy face once more. He looked straight at Millicent. "You and you." He pointed at her, then Vince. "Show us how to defend yourself."

Her stomach whirling in dread, Millicent swallowed the bile burning her throat. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor beneath Daphne's and Tracey's feet and wiped her palms on her robes.

Vince already had his wand levelled at Daphne before Millicent could even draw hers. He shouted, " _Crucio_ " and Daphne dropped at Tracey's feet, thrashing against the dirty floor, her full mouth open wide in a scream and her golden hair tangling with filth.

The professor's tiny eyes fixed on Millicent and she immediately extended her wand. Her eyes caught Draco's before he returned his blank stare to the wall and she sucked in enough air to fill her burning lungs. I pretend it's him. She fixed her gaze on Tracey's frightened face, pictured the professor's doughy jowls, and cast the curse. The other girl doubled over with a cry of pain.

"That's better. Now, pair off and practice," Carrow barked.

Bagnold and his partner got to their feet and faced each other. Vince and Greg each aimed another curse at the two boys on the floor. Blaise caught Pansy's eye and she gave him a tiny nod before they both stood. Millicent reached down to Tracey and helped her roommate up. Draco and Theo exchanged a long look before getting up from their seats. Together they bent and lifted Daphne between them, helping her into a chair.

"You two." Professor Carrow narrowed his eyes which nearly made them disappear as he pointed at Draco and Theo. "You're s'posed to be practising. How about these boys help you?"

Vince and Greg turned to Draco and Theo, their expressions reflecting anticipation as they stared at the blond.

Theo shrugged. "Well, since those two," he indicated Vince and Greg, "refuse to practice on each other we could work with them."

"Refuse to practice on each other?" Amycus Carrow eyed them speculatively. "You two pair off."

Vince and Greg looked surprised but faced each other as instructed and raised their wands. Greg's curse hit first and Vince crumpled, but managed to return fire from his knees. Carrow clapped his fat hands and then caught sight of Draco and Theo from the corner of his eye. Immediately they raised their wands at each other.

The professor's gaze swept the classroom and Millicent faced Tracey, her wand out and ready. Tracey's eyes widened, her face still creased with pain, but Millicent gestured slightly with her chin and Tracey gave a tiny nod in response, her expression relaxing before she threw her shoulders back, took a deep breath, and sent a cruciatus curse towards Millicent. Millicent braced herself, but the impact of the curse lifted her into the air and then slammed her down, her skin prickling all over as if lying on a bed of nails and her head pounding worse than any headache she had ever experienced. She tried to catch her breath and blinked to clear a red haze from her vision. Above her, Tracey held out a hand. Millicent let the other girl pull her up, legs trembling slightly beneath her.

Greg and Vince were still throwing curses back and forth between them, seeming to enjoy fighting off the pain without flinching as well as hurling _Crucio_ s. The Professor patted them on the back and asked for their assistance during detention that evening. Millicent could not help glancing at the dark-eyed boy and his handsome fellow Ravenclaw lying limp on the floor and being hit periodically with curses from those students who had not found a partner. If they faced another detention she was not certain they would survive. She felt sorry for them, even though they had brought it on themselves.

Blaise and Pansy seemed to be evenly matched. Draco and Theo were also trading curses back and forth, but only when the professor's eyes turned their way. Millicent wondered how Theo always knew when Amycus Carrow was watching them. Daphne remained huddled in a chair, her grimy golden hair as unkempt as Millicent had ever seen. When she lifted her head, the professor ordered her to stand and cast the curse. Millicent wished she would do it, for her own safety, but she refused again. He sneered in his lopsided way and assigned her detention. Vince and Greg nudged each other and whispered, then grinned in her direction. Millicent felt Professor Carrow's gaze and tossed another _Crucio_ at Tracey, her heart aching for Daphne and pounding in fear of being assigned detention herself.

At the end of class, they all moved stiffly with jerky twitches, a few with bruises beginning to blotch their faces. Millicent and Tracey supported Daphne between them. She had taken a few more curses from other students but had refused to cast the Cruciatus in return. Millicent both admired her conviction and lamented her stubborn foolishness--most Slytherins had better survival instincts.

"I'll see you at 5:00 here for detention," Amycus Carrow leered at her as they neared the door.

She stiffened as she looked back over her shoulder. "Yes, Professor." Then she walked on her own into the corridor before she sagged against the wall out of sight of the classroom's interior.

"Should I have a word with Greg and Vince before detention?" Draco asked her quietly.

She twisted her head to look up at him. "Would it make a difference?"

They leered at Daphne as they sauntered past, not waiting for Draco.

He watched their broad backs as they headed down the corridor. "I don't know."

Millicent frowned at the two big boys, talking animatedly together. Smaller children scurried out of their way. She worried her friends would go too far with their new-found skill at curses, if they had not already. They thought because they thrived on being able to withstand torture, that everyone simply had to try harder to do the same, too thrilled at having discovered their natural talent to consider holding back. It did not seem to occur to them that most children were not as physically strong as they were. She remembered Greg crying in their common room after first year exams, sure he had failed. He had finally come into his own, apparently.

"You should have thrown the curse, Daph," Tracey said, her lip trembling.

"No."

"Why?" Pansy asked. "They'll use it on you. Remember the Weasley girl and her cronies learned the same curse we did."

With a shiver, Millicent recalled the vicious gleam in the redhead's eye earlier. She had a feeling a _Crucio_ from Weasley would be a lot worse than what Tracey had thrown in practice. Even Longbottom might be a threat with a curse like that, and his lot of terrorists prowled the halls of the school these days looking for a fight. "You're a Slytherin, Daph. You're a target no matter what you believe or do."

A shudder quaked through the blonde girl. "I know."

Millicent exchanged a troubled glance with Theo. "How bad do you think it will be, when it comes to battle?"

"Worse than anything we went through in there," he said.

"Much worse." Draco shivered before his eyes went blank.

She took Theo's hand, pulling him close, and he linked his fingers with hers.


	6. Battle of Hogwarts

"Miss Bulstrode."

Millicent froze in fear at the sound of a teacher calling her name. Around her, students hurried quietly to their next class, heads down and eyes averted. Her breath came back in a rush when she realized it had been Headmaster Snape's voice, not one of the Carrows.

To her surprise, her younger brother was at his side. "Yes, Sir?"

"Come with me, please." He spun on his heel, black cloak billowing behind him, and headed towards the large stone gargoyle at the end of the corridor, Myles nearly running to keep up with the headmaster's long strides.

Students scattered from his path, terrified of drawing his attention. Puzzled at the summons, Millicent hurried after him. Behind her trailed a muted buzz of whispers.

At the top of the moving stone staircase, Snape gestured them into his large office. Beneath one of the many windows stood her parents, their black-robed figures dark outlines against the cloudy sunlight beyond.

"I will leave you to talk." Snape closed the door behind him as he left the large office.

Her parents turned, and Millicent caught her breath at their haggard expressions. Myles, who had taken several steps towards them, halted abruptly until their mother held her arms out. Her trembling hug enfolded both children, and dread crawled up Millicent's spine even as her father embraced all of them, adding to the warmth of their pressed bodies.

Though she feared the answer, Millicent pulled away. "What is it?"

"We don't know for certain, Pumpkin, but we wanted to warn you." Father looked at Mother. "Something has happened."

"Something is happening," Mother corrected. There was a quiver in her voice. "We're not privy to the inner circle, but the Dark Lord received news about a golden cup and he was furious." A shiver went through her and her voice failed.

Father rubbed her shoulder. "We weren't in the room with the others, but we heard yelling. Suddenly there were screams and green flashes and between those fleeing we caught a glimpse of the bodies inside as the Dark Lord paced among the dead."

Ice spread from Millicent's chest outward through her body, terror so sharp it wiped out feeling. She scanned her parents: they appeared unharmed though there were shadows beneath their eyes and tremors in their hands. "You're all right, aren't you?"

"We are, but, Pumpkin, you should know that some of your friends' family were in that room."

Millicent tried to control her unsteady breathing. "Who?" she whispered.

Father's voice shook. "Draco's father and aunt were the first to flee, and Theo's father had been sent on another mission along with Greg's father and Vince's parents, but the Parkinsons were present when the Dark Lord lost his temper. Only Valerian made it out. When he turned to look for his wife and sons, he realized they had not been so lucky."

Millicent remembered Basil's handsome face laughing at a prank he had pulled on his little sister and Hawthorne teasing her at a quidditch match when Cassius scored the only goal he ever made.

"Oh, poor Pansy." Tears welled up at the thought of how her friend would react to the loss of her mother and brothers.

"Why did the Dark Lord do that?" Myles asked. "He's supposed to help us and protect us."

"He's distracted." Frustration and anger strained Mother's voice. "Harry Potter is a distraction, though none of us know why a child occupies so much of our leader's time and attention. There are far more important issues."

Mother's impatience echoed in Millicent's thoughts. Everyone was too caught up in the minuscule details of Harry Potter's life to address the really important things like muggle violence and ignorance and waste. When were witches and wizards going to stop fighting each other and stand together against their real enemies?

Father cupped Myles's chin. "Yesterday, something scared him badly. He took that vile snake and vanished, but not before sending a message to Severus." He caught Millicent's gaze. "Whatever is about to occur will involve this school."

She nodded solemnly, her heart pounding so loudly they could probably hear it.

"We're ready," Myles said, his brown eyes bright.

"You're not." Father's brows snapped together, his jaw clenched. "You're underage."

Myles opened his mouth but a look from his mother had him pressing his lips tightly together.

"Where will you be?" Millicent asked her parents.

"We'll join the other Death Eaters gathering in Hogsmeade." Father brushed a shaking thumb over her cheek. "Go back to your classmates. Severus is meeting with Pansy now to break the news to her; she'll need your support."

"Listen to the headmaster and do what he says." Mother squeezed her shoulder and Myles's, but Millicent could feel her tremble. "We'll see you soon."

The words should have provided comfort. Instead, they stirred a cold ball of dread in the pit of her stomach.

#

"Get up! Everyone up!"

Millicent blinked as beams of white light from Professor Slughorn's wand flashed around the darkened dorm room.

"What's going on?"

"What time is it?"

Daphne stumbled out of bed, pulled on a lacy blue dressing robe which matched her blue nightdress, and headed towards the bathroom.

"Never mind your hair," snapped their puffy-faced head of house, wiping beads of sweat from his wide forehead. "Come, now."

He disappeared from their door, then shouting and grumbling echoed back from the next dorm room. Daphne snatched up a hairbrush even as Tracey grabbed her arm and dragged her out the door. Blackie was nowhere to be seen. Millicent hoped he was not too annoyed by all the commotion to get himself somewhere safe; the old cat did not see well anymore and he limped going up or down stairs. Pansy remained on her bed, arms wrapped around her knees, her hair tangled. She had not left her dorm in two days. Despite spending most of the time in bed, Pansy had not slept since she was told about the deaths of her mother and brothers.

Millicent threw her travelling cloak over her pyjamas, then pulled Pansy's purple cloak from her trunk, laid it over her shoulders, and drew her up. "Come on."

She expected resistance, but Pansy allowed Millicent to lead her out of the room and up the few steps to the Slytherin common room without protest. The room bubbled with mutters and complaints about being roused from bed so early on a Saturday, interspersed with whispered rumours about Harry Potter. The prefects shouted at people to head for the Great Hall, shepherding the youngest children, some of whom were crying and some of whom had fallen back asleep. Professor Slughorn's annoyed shouts and panting breaths echoed from the corridors leading to the dorm rooms. She spotted Draco's pale hair tinted green by the lamps next to Theo's dark head and elbowed her way through the crowd.

The worry in Draco's grey eyes lessened at seeing Pansy. Theo smiled faintly when their glances met. They followed the other children up the stone steps into the Entrance Hall which was even louder and more crowded than the common room had been. Students in pyjamas beneath dressing gowns and travelling cloaks huddled in clumps. Excited chatter outweighed sleepy protests and Millicent heard Harry Potter's name repeatedly. The boy had not been at school all year, so it seemed unlikely he was present, but something had definitely happened. She hoped her parents were safe in Hogsmeade with the other Death Eaters.

When they finally made it into the Great Hall, students of every year were seated at their house tables, though the ceiling above was black and dotted with stars and the tables were empty of food. The teachers were gathered as usual on the raised platform at the top of the Hall, though most stood, and there was a group of other adults with them. A few Millicent recognized from the "security" patrols the previous year. She looked in vain for the reassuring presence of the headmaster, but there was no sign of his imposing cloaked height. Millicent sat at the end of the Slytherin table across from Draco and Theo with her arm still around Pansy. A little ways farther down she saw the hulking figures of Vince and Greg not far from Daphne and Tracey. Daphne's hair was neatly brushed, her head resting on Tracey's shoulder and their arms around each other.

There was talk of evacuation and fighting. Someone asked about getting their things.

"Where's professor Snape?" Tracey called.

"He has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk," McGonagall snapped and a few scattered cheers erupted from the other tables.

Millicent exchanged a horrified glance with Draco and Theo. Why would the headmaster have left the school? Was he already in Hogsmeade with the others? She cringed at the thought of relying on their current head of house, huffing and puffing his way to the raised platform, to protect and guide them through this night.

As the old battleaxe in her tartan dressing gown continued to blather about protections, a clear, cold voice echoed from the walls themselves. Pansy winced and Millicent hugged her closer.

"I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood."

_See?_ Millicent glared at several of the students who had cupped their hands over their ears, shaking in their seats or cowering under the tables. _He doesn't want to hurt_ us _, he's trying to protect us._

"Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."

There was a rustle of clothing as heads turned and then Millicent saw a familiar mop of bedraggled black hair. He was here, after all. That was why the Dark Lord had come here.

In her arms, Pansy shook as she raised one arm and pointed. "But he's there! Potter's _there_! Someone grab him!"

Millicent was about to jump to her feet when the people in front of Potter stood and whipped out their wands. Seconds later, many at the other tables followed suit. The yellow-haired Smith boy at the Hufflepuff table looked like he wanted to protest but was too scared of his fellow students to open his mouth. At the Ravenclaw table, Eugene Bagnold dropped his head into his hands while half his housemates defended Potter. Those who had not stood with Potter exchanged glances, torn between fighting their classmates or fleeing the standoff. Millicent stayed still, tightening her grip on the still-shaking Pansy and locking eyes with Draco, the one of their group most likely to do something rash and ignite this explosive situation. Then McGonagall ordered them from the Hall and they stood slowly, keeping a watchful eye on the wands of those who were least to be trusted. Pansy leaned on Millicent's left arm as they lead the group out of the room, through the Entrance Hall, and followed Filch up the grand staircase.

Once on the stairway, several students pushed past them, desperate to get to the evacuation point, frustrated by Filch's hunchbacked shuffle.

In the press, Draco touched her right arm, using the frightened chatter as cover to whisper in her ear. "I'm going to find Potter."

Millicent's heart skipped a beat and Pansy stiffened, her frightened gaze darting to Draco.

"Draco, no," Millicent said. "Stay with us. Once we reach the Apparition point we'll be able to join the others, then we'll take care of Potter."

"I think I know where he's going."

Bracing the trembling Pansy with her left arm, Millicent scanned the crowd desperately. Myles must be somewhere nearby but she could not spot him in the throng. There was also no sign of Theo, though he had been right behind her as she left the Great Hall; probably he was searching for Imogene among the first-years. She had to make certain all of them reached the Apparition point and went home.

"Just wait, Draco," Millicent said. "Wait until the others are safe, then I can go with you. Don't go alone."

Draco squeezed her arm. "I won't be alone. I've told Vince and Greg they'll be rewarded if they help me."

His reassurance lessened her panic only a little; both boys were big and strong and they had mastered curses she still struggled with, but neither was particularly intelligent and Vince had challenged Draco on numerous occasions this year.

She shifted Pansy's weight higher and grabbed a corner of Draco's sleeve. "Wait, please."

The blond flashed her a grin. "I'll be fine." He signalled to the two hulking figures pressed against the far wall and then pushed through the moving river of students.

Millicent hesitated, but Draco's silver-blond head had already disappeared and the mass of students was carrying her with it in the direction Filch had shuffled. She would get Pansy out safely, she would check on Myles and Theo and Imogene, she would find her parents, and then she would track down Draco and make sure he was all right.

There was a bottleneck in the crowd when they reached a huge room hung with coloured hammocks and a selection of house banners; the green and silver banner noticeably missing. She gritted her teeth. _We're trying to help you, even if you're too stupid to realize the danger_. The crowd of frightened children milled around, waiting to squeeze into what appeared to be a narrow tunnel, though Millicent had never heard of a tunnel leading out of Hogwarts. When she spotted Theo, relief washed through her. He had both Imogene and Myles by the hand. Shielding Pansy against her side, Millicent elbowed her way to the trio. The anxious worry on Theo's face receded as she pushed closer.

Myles spotted her and let go of Theo to grab her free hand. "I want to help."

"You can help by going home," she said sternly. "I'll find Mother and Father and if I can't tell them you're safe, they'll be distracted and worried and might get hurt in the fighting."

Theo laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Don't worry, Myles, I'll help Millie."

At those words, Imogene's face lost her last bit of colour and she stared up at her older brother with naked fear, clutching his hand tightly, tears welling in her blue eyes.

"No, Theo," Millicent said.

He had begun to lean down and whisper assurances to his sister, but his head whipped around at her words.

"Theo, you have to take Imogene home, you can't send her there by herself."

"My father..." Theo said, obviously torn between his sister's need for his presence and his instinct to protect his elderly father.

"I'll find your father, Theo, I'll watch over him." Millicent wanted to throw her arms around Theo and lend support to his thin frame, but Pansy still leaned on one side and Myles had hold of the other. "Take the children, you know they can't Apparate on their own yet."

Theo opened his mouth, then looked into his sister's beseeching tears and shut it again.

Millicent turned to her brother. "Myles, go with Theo and Imogene and take care of them. Stay at Nott Manor; that's where we'll find you. Promise you'll keep them safe."

Her little brother straightened his shoulders. "I will."

"Good." She unwound Pansy's arm from around her neck. "Theo, take Pansy as well, make sure she gets home."

"No." Pansy pushed away from Millicent, standing on her own though her legs wobbled. "I'm going with you, Millie."

Millicent frowned. "Pans, I'm not leaving Hogsmeade. I'm going to find my parents and Theo's father and we're going to take care of whatever trouble Potter has caused and we're going to fight if need be."

"I can throw a hex as well as you can." Pansy's brown eyes flashed with a spark of her old fire.

"I know you can, but you don't have to do that today."

"My father is out there, too," Pansy said. "And he's alone. There's just two of us."

The loneliness in her friend's voice cut at Millicent's heart.

"I'm an adult, it's my choice."

Millicent nodded slowly. Pansy had a right to be with her father, she had no younger siblings to care for the way Theo did, and she was a damn good witch in a fight. "All right, we'll go together."

Both witches stayed close behind Theo and the two smaller children as they squeezed into the long tunnel and then jumped down from a mantelpiece into a rustic room that looked like it was attached to a bar, probably the Hog's Head judging by the smell of stale beer. Adults were herding children out as fast as more pushed through the passage. Millicent caught Blaise's eye as he gave her a salute and disappeared with a group of first-year Slytherins in tow.

Daphne and Tracey embraced fiercely, both crying. Daphne tried to drag Tracey with her, to evacuate with the others, but Tracey resolutely pulled away.

Daphne touched her cheek. "Stay safe."

"I'll be at your house tomorrow for breakfast."

Daphne nodded, rubbed a sleeve across her face, and then helped her younger sister herd a group of children to safety. Tracey joined Millicent and Pansy, exchanging a determined nod with Pansy.

Millicent threw her arms around Theo and kissed him, hard. He kissed her back even harder and she wished she could stay with him but she stepped back. "We'll see you soon."

He leaned closer and brushed his lips lightly across her mouth, then he put a hand on Pansy's shoulder and squeezed. "Good luck." He smiled tenderly at Millicent before he grasped Imogene and Myles by the hand once more and disappeared into the stream of children evacuating the village.

She touched her fingertips to her mouth, memorizing the taste of his kiss, before she whirled around and headed in the opposite direction, Pansy and Tracey at her heels.

On the cobbled street outside in the cold night air, apart from the crowds of terrified children, it was suddenly quiet. The stars gave little light and the air had an icy feel as if dementors had passed this way not long before. There were spots in the sky which were entirely black, blank spots that drifted slowly around and above the castle.

"Where is everyone?" Millicent whispered. Until this moment, every thought had centred on getting out to see her parents, to fight beside them, without considering that she had no idea where exactly they were.

As their group paused in the darkened street, several classmates caught up to them among darkened cottages and closed shops. The students who had Apparated younger siblings home began returning. They all looked around uncertainly until Graham appeared ahead and waved at them to follow. At the end of the next street, they found more of their fellows who had graduated in prior years, along with a few cloaked figures wearing silver masks. She recognized Thorvald Nott from his stooped posture, and darted in his direction.

"Millie, my dear." He patted her arm as she came to a breathless stop in front of him. "How's my boy?"

"He took Imogene home. They're safe."

The older man sagged with relief, his expression hidden behind the mask.

"Where's my father?" Pansy asked, coming up beside them.

Thorvald pointed and then Pansy was running. She threw her arms around another robed and masked figure who squeezed her so tightly in return she was lifted off her feet.

"Pumpkin!"

Millicent turned to find both her parents behind her and then they were hugging and crying.

"Did Myles make it out?" Her mother searched the crowd.

"Theo took him to Nott Manor."

"Thank goodness," Father breathed.

Millicent looked around at the crowd of adults and grown children in various stages of greeting family members and getting updates on friends. She waved at Cassius and Marcus and Adrian. Marcus Belby welcomed Eugene Bagnold along with the other senior Ravenclaws. A small group of Hufflepuffs banded together in a group hug. Here and there, couples embraced. Anthony and Rosalyn stood with their arms linked, her head resting on his shoulder. Graham was flanked by the Carrow twins in identical green robes, their dark hair tied back with matching green ribbons. Flora clutched his arm while he whispered to her.

Millicent stared at the outline of the castle on the hill, lights flickering in all its windows. "Harry Potter is in there. He's hiding in Hogwarts."

"We know, Pumpkin," Mother said.

"What happens now?" Millicent asked.

Her father put an arm around her shoulders. "We wait until midnight."

"Miss Bulstrode!"

She looked up at the shout, surprised at Narcissa Malfoy's emaciated appearance. No one had seen either Narcissa or Lucius since Easter; not even Draco had had word from his parents. He had lost weight since he returned to school, but his mother looked worse. Her long blonde hair was limp and dull golden strands glittered on her black robes as if falling out in clumps. Her skin was papery, thin and dry and bruised around her eyes.

She gripped Millicent's arm with one skeletal hand, her blue eyes piercing. "Where's Draco?"

"In Hogwarts. I'm sorry."

Narcissa let go of Millicent and passed her bony hand over her eyes. She turned and stumbled into the crowd.

Millicent looked up at the stars as if those points of light could tell her the time. They needed to get inside the castle.

"Not long now, Pumpkin," Father said.

#

Millicent was tired. Even the weight of her slim wand felt almost too heavy to lift once more. She had tried to stay close to her parents, to watch Pansy and Theo's father, to find Draco and protect her closest friends, but it was impossible to keep track of so many people while defending herself against multiple opponents in the midst of utter chaos, ear-splitting noise, and endless spell-casting. In the stinging dust that choked the corridors with spells fogging the air, it was difficult even to tell foe from ally; twice already Millicent had dodged a hex and raised her wand to retaliate only to realize it was a fellow Death Eater staring at her in apologetic horror. There was barely time to exchange a glance before they had to dodge more curses or exploding glass or falling chunks of stone as walls crumbled under the force of multiple spells and giants' thick arms. Once, the spiky leg of a gigantic spider had poked through a window near her and Millicent had fired off a hex and fled, not even knowing which hallway she raced down, let alone which direction anyone else ran.

Now it was fire and duck and run and fire and duck and run and she had lost track of her loved ones hours ago. At least she had not--yet--come across their lifeless or crippled bodies either among the wounded or the dead. The injured were being gathered in the Great Hall regardless of side, and Millicent had already carried three of her classmates to the makeshift infirmary. The prefect who had welcomed her on her first day at school had been barely alive, her chest crushed by chunk of stone from a destroyed gargoyle. Blood and gore was scattered throughout the halls. Millicent averted her gaze from pieces of humans and other creatures mixed among strewn rubble, unable to unable to process the extent of the devastation.

A booming crash reverberated up from the floor below and she was knocked off her feet, coughing in the dust stirred up from the rubble at her feet. Her right palm scraped a jagged edge of stone and her left landed in a puddle of sticky red. Quickly, she wiped her hand against her charred robes. As she dragged herself back up despite the ache in her arms, she heard crying inside a room just ahead. The door had been obliterated and she peered through the opening, wand at the ready. Inside, she saw Tracey's corpse next to those of Yatin, Adrian, and Yurika with Viola sobbing over the bodies. Millicent's arm shook as she tucked her wand into her sleeve and stepped carefully over the loose rubble to enter the room. Viola did not look up as Millicent stared at her friends' remains. Both Tracey and Yatin were exceptional duellers, better than she, yet she was still standing and they were gone.

In the midst of her sobs, Viola alternately cursed Adrian for playing by the rules in the middle of a battle and blamed herself for her comrades' deaths.

Millicent shook off her horror and pulled at Viola's arm. "We have to go." If the enemy returned, they would be trapped in the room.

Viola only sobbed harder. "I can't leave them."

She refused to go, no matter how Millicent pleaded. Finally, she dragged the other girl to her feet and turned, only to come face to face with the large red-faced Gryffindor who sometimes played keeper. He grinned and Millicent realized he already had his wand pointed at them whereas she had pocketed hers to help Viola.

"Well, well. A couple more filthy Death Eaters. Say goodbye to whatever passes for loved ones in your twisted souls. _Ava_ -"

Before he could finish the curse, he stiffened and toppled over, eyes betraying his surprise. Behind him in the debris-strewn opening stood Thorvald Nott.

"Let's go, girls." He waved them to the doorway.

Millicent half-carried Viola over the ex-keeper's prone form to squeeze Theo's father in a one-armed hug, grateful for his rescue and to see him alive and whole.

The three of them rounded a corner and hurried down a corridor that sometimes had a stairway leading down, only to find the moving stairway had been blasted away. A remnant hung crookedly in midair between one landing and the next. Below was a sharp drop to an open area four floors below. The trio turned to retrace their steps when Graham, Hestia, and Flora raced towards them, jets of red and green flashing above their heads and bouncing off hastily thrown shield charms. Millicent ducked into an alcove, shoved Viola and Thorvald behind her, and sent a hex back down the corridor to whoever was chasing the twins and Flora's beau.

Graham shot her a grateful look but his face fell when he realized they had reached a dead end. He grabbed Flora around the waist and dropped to the dusty floor, taking her weight and then rolling her beneath him while Hestia returned fire at their pursuers. Thorvald and Millicent provided cover so Hestia could duck into an alcove opposite theirs. From the protection of the nook, Millicent got a look at their opponents: the dark-complexioned mudblood and his Irish sidekick along with the two beauty queens from Gryffindor who had mocked her size and hygiene and appetite.

A curse whirled past her cheek, the breeze of its passing pulling on a lock of her hair, and she took cover again. Graham and Flora crawled over to join Hestia, and the sisters alternated sending jinxes back at their opponents, working together like a well-oiled team, while Graham added to their fire whenever he found an opening. Millicent and Thorvald returned fire as well, but Viola was squished into the alcove behind them, unable to get a clear shot without leaving cover. At the far end of the corridor, their attackers had taken defensive positions behind the remains of two gargoyles and a suit of armour and were keeping up a steady stream of hexes. It was a stand-off except that she and her friends were pinned down and would eventually have to make a break or risk becoming too exhausted to defend themselves any longer.

From the relative safety of the nook, Millicent examined the drop-off where the corridor ended and no stairs were going to appear. If she got a running start, it may be possible to jump for the jagged remains of the staircase and make it down to the next floor or the floor below that. Across the corridor, she saw the same idea occur to Graham. He caught her glance and nodded.

"Give yourselves up and we'll go easy on you!" the mudblood shouted.

"Yeah, you can spend the rest of your lives in Azkaban instead of being killed like you deserve." The scruffy Irish boy laughed, joined by the black-haired beauty and her blonde cohort.

Millicent felt a quiver rattle Thorvald's frame at mention of the prison. She touched his hand and pointed towards the broken stairs. He frowned and shook his head. She wondered if she could levitate him across, since it would be impossible for her to make the jump carrying him. Not that she could risk the jump while the corridor flashed with dangerous spells.

Graham turned to Flora and Hestia, gesturing towards the landing, his lips moving. In the chaos of echoing booms and crumbling rock that repeatedly rolled up from the lower levels as well as their own battle, he could not be overheard, but Millicent saw Flora grab his sleeve, shaking her head vehemently. A brief argument ensued, before Graham plucked her hand from his sleeve, caught Millicent's eye, and darted into the corridor. Quickly, she raised her wand and fired a steady stream of hexes, causing their enemies to duck behind cover. Despite his misgivings, Thorvald joined his fire to hers and both twins began their own assault, though Flora's shots went wild, careening off portraits and gouging holes in the floor and ceiling, and her head continually twisted in Graham's direction.

Graham darted back along the corridor towards the Gryffindors, staying low, before he spun and sprinted towards the open end of the hallway. As he neared the edge, his ankles tangled together and Millicent realized he had been hit with a trip jinx. His momentum carried him onward, skidding on his stomach and clearing a path through the rubble of the corridor, all the way to the edge of the broken landing. With a scream, Flora threw herself towards him, catching hold of one flailing arm. Anchored by his girlfriend but unable to stop the momentum, Graham slid until the lower half of his body dangled over the four-story drop, dragging Flora with him until she braced herself on a broken edge of stone. For a moment, Millicent thought they were both all right. Then _relashio_ carried down the corridor and Flora's hand flexed. Graham's eyes widened before he disappeared from sight.

" _Levicorpus_!" Thorvald shouted, an instant too late.

Flora screamed again and made an abortive movement to follow her boyfriend off the ledge. For a moment, Millicent wondered if Flora intended to jump. Instead, she spun and leapt to her feet, her eyes flashing dangerously as jets of green light shot from her wand towards the far end of the corridor. She made no effort to dodge the curses coming back at her. One singed the hair above her right eyebrow and another burned a gash in the left corner of her robe but she continued firing. Thorvald tried to grab her, his old body straining to move quickly enough as a streak of purple flame shot towards her, shielding her from a curse that nearly sliced her legs from under her.

She did not flinch in her assault, red and green shooting from her wand so quickly it was as if she were conjuring jinxes and hexes from every fingertip. They ricocheted off walls, ceiling, and floor until the air was full of colourfully flashing debris. The four assailants dove for cover though Flora was making no effort to shield herself. Hestia and Millicent hastened to keep them pinned down, Viola adding her wand to the barrage, but the blonde girl shot a killing curse in return and Flora slumped to the rubble-strewn floor. At the same time, the ceiling crumbled, collapsing in a cloud of dust and entirely blocking the corridor between them and their opponents.

Coughing and blinking furiously, Millicent put her sleeve over her mouth and turned. Her gaze fell on Thorvald's fallen body. For a heartbeat, she could see nothing except the gush of red soaking the floor beneath him, his eyes blank and staring. She had failed Theo. He would be devastated. Imogene would be heartbroken. For a moment, all the noise around her was muffled as if her head was stuffed with cotton, then a wail of pain, louder than any she had heard yet, swirled in the smoky air. Her head turned to see Hestia throw herself on top of her sister's body, their identical green robes puddled together in the ash and rubble.

Millicent looked up and down the corridor which was now blocked by debris at one end and open to an inaccessible stairwell at the other. She looked back at the broken stone steps. It was stay here or jump. At least they would no longer have to dodge jinxes and curses as they tried to make the leap. She looked back at Thorvald. There was no way she could carry his body with them, nor Flora's. She knelt at his side and closed his eyes, head bent for a moment, feeling every ache, cut, and burn on every part of her abused body, then she pushed herself slowly to her feet and met Viola's sombre stare.

"We have to jump, don't we?" Viola asked.

"Or wait here until someone blasts through." Of course, that would blast them, too. Millicent put a hand on Hestia's shoulder. "We have to go."

Hestia did not move, other than her shuddering sobs.

Millicent shook her. "We have to go."

Flora's twin did not acknowledge her. Viola tried shouting Hestia's name, tried telling her her sister would want her to flee, but nothing they said or did budged her.

Millicent sidled up to the opening where the stairs used to connect with the hallway. If it were only a matter of carrying Hestia down the stairs, she could do it, but she could not make the jump with the weight of a second person. If Hestia refused to come, they would have to leave her. Millicent considered staying with Hestia who did not appear willing to even defend herself if necessary, but she had to find Theo and her parents, make sure they were all right, make sure Draco and Pansy were all right, and tell Theo about his father. She had to go.

With a last glance at the twins prostrate on the floor, their matching green bows both missing from their tangled hair, Millicent locked eyes with Viola. "I'll go first."

Viola nodded.

Millicent wiped her palms on her robes, judged the distance from the broken ledge to the closest stair, and took a deep breath. She knocked a few pebbles of debris over the edge as she leapt, hearing them rattle on the stone many floors below, but her feet landed on the remains of the previously moving staircase and she threw herself down, hugging the solid stone while blood pounded in her ears. Then she rolled out of the way and beckoned Viola to follow. The other girl landed at the edge and Millicent grabbed her around the waist before she lost her balance. The two of them stood a moment to catch their breath, them scrambled down the steps.

Millicent turned her face away from Graham's body splayed at the bottom, arms and legs twisted. Down here, there were no more jets of light flashing back and forth, and the crashes and bangs had faded. It was eerily silent as spell residue shimmered in the air along with dust and the stink of gore and char. Millicent gripped her wand, moving carefully, watching all directions at once. Then the clear, cold voice vibrated from the walls and floor once more, giving a one hour cease-fire. She and Viola exchanged a look.

"They'll regroup in the Forbidden Forest," Viola said.

"Can you find the place?"

"I think so."

They were on the second floor, not far from the marble staircase that led down into the Entrance Hall. On the top step, Millicent paused to stare at the scattering of emeralds on the broken, bloody flagstones, then she forced herself to continue down. A babble of voices came from the Great Hall, the only place that seemed occupied by the living. If any of her friends or family were in there, they were being helped or beyond aid, and if she dared to look in she risked being detained permanently, so she slipped out the door and followed Viola across the burned and trampled lawns in the direction of the forest.

It was dark, but figures moved over the grass, singly and in pairs, carrying the injured or simply sitting with them if it was too dangerous to move them. About half way between the castle and the forest, her wandlight illuminated a thin face beneath dark hair and Millicent choked down a sobbing breath as she threw her arms around Theo's neck. As soon as he recognized her, her embraced her in return, his narrow shoulders shaking. Viola tapped Millicent's shoulder, pointed, and went to help a heavyset boy struggling under the weight of an injured man.

"Why are you here?" Millicent asked, equally glad he was in her arms and terrified he was back at Hogwarts.

"Imogene and Myles are safe and asleep at the manor. I had to check on Father and you. I arrived just as the cease-fire was called and everyone began leaving the castle headed for the forest. I've been asking everyone who passes for news." He looked down at the girl prostrate beside him. "She was injured and needed company until someone can carry her to one infirmary or the other."

The girl on the ground groaned. Millicent met Theo's eyes, then laid a hand on the girl's forehead. She looked too young to have been fighting.

"She'll be all right," Theo said. "But she can't walk."

Millicent tried not to stare at the odd angles of the girl's legs beneath her black robes. "Have you seen Pansy?" she asked.

He nodded. "She and her father passed by a few minutes ago with that Ravenclaw whose aunt used to be Minister. Eugene took a knee reversal hex and she was helping him walk. Any sign of Draco in there?"

Millicent shook her head.

"His parents have been asking everyone for his whereabouts, but no one has seen him since he and Greg escaped the Room of Hidden Things."

"Room of hidden things?" Is that where Potter had been hiding?

Theo held her gaze. "Greg said Vince is dead. Draco was right about where to look and they almost cornered Potter and his friends before curses started flying. Apparently Greg and Draco barely escaped with their lives; then when Greg regained consciousness in the corridor outside the room, Draco was gone. Neither had wands, so Greg went looking for help and found his father. The two of them headed for the forest to give Vince's parents the news."

Millicent added Vince's name to her list of people to mourn. "Tracey's dead, too."

Theo scrubbed a hand across his eyes. The girl lying at their feet began quietly crying and Millicent stroked her forehead.

"My parents?" she asked, her breath freezing in her chest as she waited for Theo's answer.

"Your mother took a slashing curse to the face. Your father carried her to the field dressing station set up at the edge of the Forbidden Forest."

Alive. They were alive. She gasped in a breath. She needed to check on her mother,.but first she had to tell Theo. "Your father..." Her voice choked off.

Theo looked away.

"I'm so sorry. I was right there, but he pushed Flora out of the way and the curse hit him in the throat."

"Don't." Theo held up a hand. "Later, but not now."

She nodded.

Theo turned back to the crying girl, stroking her forehead and murmuring.

"Help me." A boy staggered towards them, trying to support the weight of a woman twice his size.

Her black robe was shredded and damp down her right side, her silver mask hanging crookedly around her neck. Millicent put the woman's limp right arm around her shoulders, trying not to think about the warm dampness now pressed against her own robes and the coppery smell clogging her nostrils. She half carried, half dragged the injured woman in the direction Viola had taken the wounded man until they reached an area of tramped grass lit by crisscrossing beams of wandlight. An overworked healer assisted by those who were well enough to help and not important enough to be at the Dark Lord's side were dressing wounds and administering potions. Millicent laid the woman down where the healer directed and then searched the faces for her mother.

"Millie." Her father's voice came from a corner of the makeshift infirmary beneath the spreading branches of an oak tree.

With a sob, she threw herself at him, staring in horror at her mother's blood-crusted face.

"It looks worse than it is," her mother said, reaching out an arm from where she slumped against the tree trunk.

Millicent hugged her carefully, afraid to increase the pain.

"We were so worried, Pumpkin."

"So was I."

They sat quietly a moment. The fresh forest air mingled with scents of gore and strong potions.

"Tracey's dead, and Theo's father, and Flora and Graham, and Vince."

Her parents bowed their heads. They did not add to the list of names to mourn. Millicent did not think she could bear hearing of more deaths right now.

She sat with them, breathing in the cold air, staring at the lightening sky as the night faded. Theo joined them after a little while, having entrusted the injured girl to Neville Longbottom who was apparently collecting the wounded and delivering them to the Great Hall without regard to who was on which side. Theo had also helped him gather up a few of the dead, carrying them as far as the front steps before they parted ways.

Millicent's eyes were fluttering closed when a flock of birds flew up not far away, scolding whoever had passed below. The ground shook and a tree crashed into another, then they heard an enraged bellow and a dozen happy chants. Her weariness abruptly gone, she sat up straight and stared at Theo who stared back, wide-eyed. Who was cheering? Was it over? The cold voice vibrated up from the ground beneath their feet and echoed back from the trees. They looked at each other. Harry Potter was dead? Then this battle was over. Nothing would distract the Dark Lord now or stop them from saving wizardkind. Theo's father had not died in vain, or Tracey, or Flora, or Graham, or any of the others. There was a beat of silence, then cheers and shouts resumed from a noisy group crossing open ground on their way to the castle.

"Go, see what happens," Father said.

Millicent took Theo's hand and they hurried after the Dark Lord and his circle of Death Eaters. She caught sight of Greg next to a masked Death Eater even more heavily built that must be Goyle Senior. Pansy was near the back of the group, her arm around her father. In the faint predawn light, Lucius's white-blond hair glowed faintly with Narcissa by his side. Draco was not there.

The whole group lined up facing the front doors of the school, which opened to let out a square of white light. Theo gripped her hand and they watched from the wet grass as both sides argued back and forth. Then there was a burst of flame and the ground shook again beneath the running feet of giants and a stampede of centaur hooves passed barely a stone's throw from where Millicent stood with Theo. She blinked up at the sight of winged horses overhead that looked like four-legged skeletal bats though Theo barely glanced at them. He pulled her aside, but not before she saw Greg try to stop a centaur from trampling his father beneath its hooves, only to go down with an arrow through his throat. The eastern horizon grew pale as hordes of creatures and wizards clashed in the open area in front of Hogwarts. Still holding hands, Millicent and Theo joined the crowd racing for cover inside the castle.

The pandemonium was as intense inside the castle as on the grounds outside. The number of combatants appeared to have doubled or tripled during the lull in fighting. Huge chunks of the marble staircase were thrown through the air along with multicoloured spell beams. Everyone was shouting, even the croaking and squeaking elves, and the centaurs' hooves clattered against the floor nearly loud enough to drown out an explosive boom from the direction of the kitchen. Millicent and Theo ran for the Great Hall, following the sound of the fiercest fighting. Duels raged throughout the hall, jets of light illuminating exhausted faces. Immediately, they began throwing up shield charms to shelter as many of their friends and family as had not yet been killed or trampled. Pansy sent them a grateful look when a jet of red light bounced away from the side of her head as she struggled to get to her father, currently slumped between two beefy Aurors who had his arms pinned. Lucius and Narcissa wove in and out among duellers and prisoners, not even attempting to fight, calling for Draco.

Millicent lifted her tired arm to defend against the next volley of curses headed towards her and Theo. Her arm was shaking and her reflexes had dulled so that a jet of violet sliced open Theo's right sleeve before she could deflect it. His wand rattled against the stone floor as he clutched at his arm. She leapt in front of him, but their attacker had turned to face a cleared area in the middle of the hall, the only space where the sounds of battle continued. Ignoring whatever held hundreds of people in thrall, Millicent took Theo's right arm in hers to peel back the torn sleeve of his robe. The skin was puckered with globules that oozed puss, but it would do no worse than end in an itchy red rash for a few days. She pulled the torn ends of his sleeve together, wrapped them tightly, and held them in place on his damaged arm with a quick stitching spell. His lips trembled in a tired but grateful smile and they both looked up to find what held everyone's attention.

Two duels continued, both fights three-on-one. She was surprised to see her round-bellied, bald-headed head of house in his emerald-coloured pyjamas shoulder to shoulder with the deputy headmistress and the black-skinned man from the Ministry whose height topped Professor Slughorn by head and shoulders, all three duelling the Dark Lord himself. A short distance away, Bellatrix Lestrange defeated her three opponents and was now locked in combat with the dumpy red-haired woman who had married into the Weasley family. The floor beneath the pair smoked and the air crackled with hatred. Millicent felt a shiver crawl up her spine at the intensity of their fight, the fervent wish for the other to die. She turned her head away and her gaze found her mother's scarred face among the watching crowd.

There was a roar and a scream and a rush of furnace-hot air threw her hair across her eyes, momentarily blocking her view. Then a louder roar of screams exploded through the crowd before it was abruptly silent. The hair on her neck stood up and she clutched at Theo, staring at the shocked faces around her. She heard Potter's voice, so loud in the abrupt stillness that it sounded like a trumpet, and the Dark Lord's hissing response. Apparently, the Chosen One was not dead after all. Finally the Dark Lord would face his obsessive fear of a child and either succumb to his self-imposed downfall or put it behind him once and for all.

She turned to find her mother again, and spotted her father close by. Theo nudged her and gestured with his chin towards the showdown that held everyone's attention. Were they speaking about Draco? Then a flash of sunlight flashed over the windowsill opposite causing her to shut her eyes, a ball of red and gold coloured her eyelids, there was a bang that shook the floor, and pandemonium reigned again. She was jostled as the crowd around her surged forward. She clasped Theo tighter, not letting the crush of people pull them apart.


	7. Sunrise

Millicent sat on a wooden bench that had been pushed up against a wall of the Great Hall. The sun coming through the windows was as bright as the golden sun in the enchanted ceiling above. Beside her, Theo's head rested on her shoulder, his injured arm curled against his chest, his breathing slow and even. When he woke, they would have to return to Nott Manor and tell Imogene her father was not coming home; until then, she hoped he got a good rest. Theo would have little opportunity to sleep in the following weeks--Imogene had awoken with nightmares every night of her father's imprisonment and it would only be worse with his death. Her heart ached for both children.

Tables had been set up in the hall once more, though there were no neat rows of students grouped by the colour of their ties; instead there was a mass of people: adults and children, injured and healthy, mourning and jubilant, most exhausted, some asleep with their heads pillowed on their arms, some talking animatedly about exploits they had seen or experienced, so many crowded around Potter that Millicent had not caught a glimpse of him in hours. Wizards and witches who had been tossing curses and hexes at each other throughout the dark were sitting side by side this morning consoling each other. Children who had been sorted into groups since they set foot here were mixing more freely than they ever had, piecing stories together from both sides, mourning lost classmates, celebrating victories, and sharing trauma. At one of the tables, the three Malfoys huddled together and Millicent sighed in relief to know Draco was alive and apparently uninjured.

On the raised platform, the dead had been laid out together and those who were grieving stood shoulder to shoulder, united by the pain of loss. Flora and Graham had been laid side by side and Hestia sat beside her sister's body, Flora's hand clasped in both of hers, staring sightlessly across the hall. She had not moved, spoken, or eaten. Millicent's father sat with Pansy and her father, silently holding vigil for her mother and brothers whose bodies were not in this room but whose deaths were being mourned with the others. So much for not spilling magical blood.  _ There are so few of us compared to muggles and we've done nothing to even the odds today. _

Daphne had returned to the castle, stayed in the Great Hall long enough to pay her respects to Tracey, and then joined the efforts of those in the infirmary. The injured had been moved to the hospital wing where everyone with any healing skill laboured together to reverse the worst damage they had done to each other, pooling their stores of potions and bandages. Mother had refused to be treated further, insisting there were worse wounds to be seen to and that if she came out with a few scars it was less than many had endured that night. She had remained in the hospital wing, making the rounds, comforting those who were most frightened by the Dark Lord's defeat, encouraging the ones who had given up hope for the future.

If they had a future. How many of the people who had survived this night would be rounded up and locked away before the next night fell? Theo was too thin to survive long in prison, and her parents--how long until they succumbed to despair and hunger in that dismal hell? In their absence, who would stand up to keep this world safe? Having lost so many, they could not imprison half the survivors or too few would remain and the magical world here would cease to exist. Those who were left had to work together or hope was lost.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named acting Minister for Magic. His broad shoulders and deep, soothing voice quelled people's fears and his powerful presence subdued bursts of hostility among mourners and revellers alike. She had never met him before today, but he and his wife were respected pure-bloods and, despite having worked as an Auror during the Ministry abuses following the first war, he had never been rumoured to misuse his power or target supposed Death Eaters for revenge or personal gain. Millicent hoped he could unite them, end this civil war that drained their tiny numbers, and focus their attention on the threats beyond their enclave.

Her hopes had risen when he stopped and spoke to her father and the Parkinsons. When Shacklebolt first paused in front of them, her father had stiffened and Pansy's brown eyes darted from side to side as her arm tightened around her father, but he had crouched down, bringing his bald head level with Pansy's. She blinked when he offered condolences for her mother and asked after her father's health. Then he had turned to Millicent's father and promised things would be different this time.

"There will be no mock trials or midnight raids of the homes of anyone accused of sympathizing with Voldemort." Shacklebolt's gaze had been steady and open. "My performance as acting Minister will not be judged by how many bodies are crammed into Azkaban."

"A general amnesty?" her father challenged.

Shacklebolt shook his head. "No pardon for violent crimes against muggle or magical folk or any of the beings and creatures that share this land with us."

Her father had looked across the hall. "If you try everyone who threw unforgivable curses this night the prison will be packed indeed, your Golden Boy included."

"Exception will be made for those who fought in the battle or who defended themselves with reasonable force." Shacklebolt laid a hand on her father's shoulder. "Everyone accused will be judged to the same standard, Auror or Death Eater or citizen. No special favours and no exemptions for those who have enjoyed positions of privilege for generations."

Relief washed the dread from Millicent's heart. Her parents would not be sent to prison. Theo would not be locked up. Her gaze strayed to Draco and his family. If privilege did not protect them, she hoped their quick-thinking and lack of participation in the fighting last night would keep them safe.

Kingsley Shacklebolt stood to his full height once more, his shoulders half again as broad as her father's and moved to speak to more of the survivors. She watched him divide his time equally among those who had fought with him and against him and she wished with every shred of optimism inside her that he had been sincere in his promise and no other child would be awakened in the night while their home was ransacked and their parents threatened. Then Theo stirred beside her, his blue eyes blinking in the sunlight flooding the hall. Her mother returned from the infirmary and her father helped Pansy support Valerian as they walked together through the crowded hall, across the bloodstained Entrance Hall, over the trampled grass of the grounds, and through the wide gates on their way home.


End file.
